Never Again
by deranged-fan
Summary: Mikan is 23, a fashion designer. She left Gakuen Alice earlier--for a reason. And now, Natsume suddenly visits. She doesn't want to see him, but he persists. And she finds herself losing once again. In the future. A few mildly bad words and innuendos.
1. Chapter 1

Never Again

So...yeah. First story ever. Hope ya like.

Am I supposed to put the summary here? ...Well, it's in the future (futurefic?) and Mikan is a fashion designer (I know, creative right?) and Natsume... visits. And... well... romance.

...right. Disclaimer, I guess. ...I don't own Gakuen Alice?

* * *

A brunette looked up from her work. A moment ago, she had been busily drawing her latest designs. It helped take her mind off of HIM. Whenever she thought about HIM, she would hurt. She had already mainly locked off all her emotions after THAT EVENT, but part of the pain remained. Anyways, she was rather annoyed at being disturbed. She mentally waved away all the caps.

"Sakura-sama, a man is here to see you," her secretary said rather shyly. Although her boss, Mikan Sakura, was very kind to all the employees, she was still cold, and didn't exactly give off that friendly feel.

Mikan sighed. Another man, trying to court her. She wasn't as naïve as before anymore; she knew that her beauty attracted many male visitors, hoping to date the amazing, rich, and pretty young woman. "Tell him to go away." She turned her attention back to her drawings.

"Hai." The secretary left.

Less than a minute later, the secretary came back. "He said that he won't leave, and that he has information about a girl named Imai Hotaru."

Mikan bolted upright. "Have him come in immediately," she demanded, eyes flashing.

"H-hai," the secretary stammered, alarmed at her boss's sudden change of attitude. She made her way back out. Mikan stood up and paced in front of the huge window/wall looking out onto downtown Tokyo. She had an enormous office, with large, simple bookcases covering the walls, a modern chandelier, a long, curved desk in front of the window, and a round table in a corner. The walls were a soft gray, and the floor a pale blue.

"Hotaru-chan…" she murmured unconsciously, biting her bottom lip anxiously.

"Hello, Polka dots," a cold voice said behind her.

She froze. _No way,_ she thought frantically, _I must have imagined that voice!_

"Oi, Polka dots," the voice repeated, sounding rather irritated now. "Polka dots!"

Mikan slowly turned around to face a raven-haired, red-eyed, handsome young man. She blinked a few times. "N—Natsume?"

"Pleased to see me, Polka dots?"

Mikan quickly regained her composure. "Not particularly. And please stop calling me that rude nickname and start calling me by my real name." She sat down at her desk. "What do you know about Hotaru, Hyuuga-san?"

"Why aren't you calling me Natsume?" he asked, slightly stunned.

Mikan sighed. "Hyuuga-san, I don't know you very well, so it would be improper and impolite. Now will you please tell me what you know about Hotaru?"

"…She's in Europe."

"I know that," Mikan said rather impatiently. "Why?"

"I don't know—"

"Then why did you come here?!" Mikan stood, slamming her hands on her desk.

"—but I think it was partly because of Ruka," Natsume continued as if nothing had happened.

Mikan took a deep breath and sat down again. "What did Ruka-pyon do?"

"No idea."

"…Hyuuga-san, can you bring Ruka-pyon here?" Mikan asked thoughtfully.

"He's in America."

"What?!"

"You heard me," Natsume muttered.

Mikan put her hand on her forehead and leaned back in her chair, closing her eyes. "Fine then. Hyuuga-san" –she pressed a button on her desk, and her secretary came in—"Reika-san will show you to the door."

"Hai, Sakura-sama," the woman bowed politely.

"I refuse to leave."

Mikan looked up. "Excuse me?"

"I refuse to leave," Natsume repeated.

Mikan gritted her teeth. "Yes, well, this isn't something you decide. I _demand_ you leave, or I will have the security kick you out."

"Um, Sakura-sama?" the secretary asked uncertainly.

"Yes?"

"There's another visitor," she said. "Should I let him in?"

"Sure, whatever," Mikan said impatiently, not really paying attention.

"Hai," the secretary repeated for the 500th time or so. She back out, wondering who this man was that had caused such an attitude change in her unfeeling boss.

..

Natsume knew how Mikan had made her fortune. Hell, nearly everyone knew. She was a phenomenon. He wanted to tell himself that he was one of the first to notice that, but seeing the Mikan before him, that thought evaporated.

According to the stories, Mikan had worked her way to the top with her incredible, innovative, and above all, chic designs, and then used her famous stubbornness—which she called perseverance as soon as she learned that word—to start a world famous brand of clothes, at the head of a company known for finding and producing new generation prodigies. All by the age of twenty.

For two years, everyone thought she was going to crash and burn, and she would be forgotten. But, as Natsume knew well, she proved everyone wrong. At first, people suspected she was sleeping with CEOs. As soon as that appeared in the newspaper…well, Natsume had to go buy a lot of new cups, and another newspaper. But upon meeting her, the idea died in the reporters' brains. She was reported to be stoic, icy, but politely courteous all the same. She seemed harsh and strict, an unreachable beauty, and subordinates claimed she demanded the best, but everyone agreed that she was fair.

She was amazing, at twenty three.

And she didn't want anything to do with him.

"Natsume?" A voice suddenly interrupted his thoughts. "Natsume Hyuuga?"

Wait, that voice—

"Do you remember me?" a young man, grinning charmingly. "Tsubasa Andou? From Gakuen Alice?"

Natsume glared at him.

"I'll take that as a yes," Tsubasa laughed. "Same old Natsume."

"Tsubasa, what are you doing here?" Mikan asked. Natsume noticed the lack of honorific.

Tsubasa grinned wider. "What, can't I visit my favorite kouhai?"

"I'm not your kouhai anymore."

"So?"

"…Misaki got mad at you again."

Tsubasa winced. "How'd you know?"

"The fact that you're here." Mikan sighed, completely ignoring an irritated Natsume. "That, and the bruise on your face."

Tsubasa sighed.

"What did you do this time?" Mikan said, a little bit of sympathy leaking into her voice.

Tsubasa muttered, "I forgot our two month anniversary."

Mikan was silent for a bit. Then, "Watch out."

Tsubasa grabbed a pillow from who knows where and held it in front of his face as Mikan hurled a stapler at him at lightning speed. Natsume watched wide-eyed (and still growing), utterly shocked, as Mikan narrowed her eyes and glared at the stapler, which had somehow managed to open and embed itself in the pillow.

Tsubasa cautiously peeked out, before setting the pillow down and continuing. "So you know what I'm here for."

Mikan sat down with a huff. "Okay, I've said this a million times. Misaki likes romantic stuff; most girls do. You just hurt her really badly by forgetting the date you two got together, so she covered it up by punching you." She stopped at the look on both guys' faces. "What? …Boys," she scoffed. "Anyway Tsubasa, all you have to do is—"

"I'm still here." Natsume interrupted her, earning a glare and dark aura near to Persona's from the brunette.

She continued, "Well, you just have to—"

"Still here."

"—make it—"

"Stilllll here."

"—up to her—"

"Still. Here."

"OH, SHUT UP!" Mikan roared. Thank you, soundproof walls.

Natsume and Tsubasa watched her with huge eyes.

She sighed. "Hyuuga-san, wait two minutes. I'll be done soon." She continued, "Just give her roses, an apology, and take her out to dinner. NOT ramen," she added dryly.

Tsubasa nodded, still rather frightened, and scampered out, to the confusion of the secretary.

"Now, Hyuuga-san," Mikan turned back to Natsume. "How may I help you?"

Natsume wasn't really sure himself. "There's a party next Friday. I need to bring a date," he improvised.

"And…?" Mikan said skeptically.

Natsume just looked at her.

"No."

Natsume kept looking at her.

"I said, no!"

Natsume stared.

"Ugh! Fine, but don't expect me to stay long!"

Natsume nodded, satisfied. "I'll pick you up at seven." He walked out the door.

"And don't you dare be late, Hyuuga!"

He raised a hand, not bothering to look back as the door clicked shut.

Mikan banged her head on the desk. He still had the same effect on her, able to bend her to his will. She wasn't supposed to bend, dammit! That was why she left!

But he still could coerce her into anything. And she hated herself for it.


	2. Chapter 2

2nd chapter! Woohoo!

...

This is my first story, and I'm so stupid I don't know how to access my own reviews... I know, right?

So, if someone could please help me... thanks.

I totally own Gakuen Alice. Notice the sarcasm.

* * *

It wasn't as if she didn't know who he was. As soon as he left Gakuen Alice, everyone found out he already had made a small fortune by secretly investing while he was still in school. And his wealth only grew. Soon, he became an integral part of the high class, invited to every party or meeting. Of course, his presence was desired because of his prestige, which itself derived from his incredible looks and his cold exterior, as well as his money.

He was often in the news. Sometimes it was something he had said, more often an update on his newest girlfriend, be it model, actress, or singer. Their career often skyrocketed when the relationship began, and then plummeted permanently as soon as he switched. And if it were a woman with inherited money, she would fall from the higher society in disgrace. Luckily for womankind, he didn't date too many.

She knew she was going to have to deny any relationship if she wanted to remain successful. She was starting to question her sanity, in between accepting the invite and making a new dress to wear to the party. She convinced herself that she was trying to promote her line, willfully ignoring how Natsume had got her to go.

So when the doorbell rang at seven thirty, she considered applying to an insane asylum momentarily before answering. "Na—" she began, about to berate him for being late, but then gasped, "—tsu…me…" She blinked, telling herself that he most certainly did NOT look utterly gorgeous in his suit.

Similarly, Natsume was also breathless. Mikan was wearing a simple evening gown of her own design, a silky green dress that emphasized her smooth, pale skin and beautifully coiffed amber hair. It had straps, multiple separate strings on both side that went over her shoulder and crossed, making a delicate weave with silver thread woven in, and then connecting to the back. A thin white ribbon was wound around her hips, from white tiny pink beads sprinkled down like petals. It swept down to her feet, which had on green stilettos.

As soon as both had recovered, Mikan gave him a tentative smile. "So… should we go?"

Natsume nodded tersely, and they both walked back to his car. Natsume didn't bother to open her door, but admired the way she so easily slid into the seat, in one fluid motion, as if she already knew his car. The car was sleek and black, which matched both of their preferences.

The drive started out awkward. Neither really knew what to say, considering the reason for Mikan's departure. So he decided to turn up the radio, and immediately made a mental note to murder Aoi. She had used his car again.

But then that thought disappeared, because Mikan exclaimed, "I love this song!" and began singing to it. He had no idea what the song was, but it sounded really girly. But Mikan's voice was beautiful, and it kept both their minds off the tension.

When they arrived at the party, there were obviously a great many reporters. After all, it was one of those few events where one could see a mixture of all of the best: actors and actresses, singers, dancers, designers, models, talk show hosts, and people who were just plain filthy rich for some other reason. Only the most famous, the most wealthy, and the most talented could attend. The party was hosted by a man well-known for noticing potential and producing stars, backing them up all the way. To be noticed by this man was a compliment of the highest degree.

Natsume had met this man several times. Each time, he had been pressured to become a model, but each time, he had turned it down, saying he already had enough fame and fortune. Mikan had never met him.

As they walked through the flashes—Natsume was used to it and Mikan was too stubborn to show her anxiety—reporters began screaming questions. "Natsume, are you and Mikan now dating?" "What happened to Luna? Have you two broken up?" "Is a Mikan a replacement for Luna or do you really like her more?" "Does Luna know about this?"

Mikan, having years of experience in being distanced and emotionless, easily ignored all these questions, despite how offensive they were. No stupid paparazzi were going to force a career-destroying tantrum out of her. But this time, she had to repeatedly remind herself that these blunt queries shouldn't be crushing her heart.

But she was quickly distracted by the man bounding through the crowd to greet them.

"Yuu?!" she half-shrieked.

"Hyuuga-san! Sakura-san!" the handsome young man called out as he slowed his pace and stopped in front of them. "Why don't we sit down?" He gestured formally towards a nearby table, and Mikan took some time to glance around the room.

It was large, grand, and spacey. There was a high ceiling to give an airy feel, and the décor was modern enough so as not to be old-fashioned. There was a stage at the back wall, and a dance floor right in front. All around the rest of the room were large tables, most of which already had people chatting. Yuu led them towards an empty one.

"Yes, Sakura-san," Tobita Yuu was saying. "I'm the one who is famous for producing stars. Don't you read the news?"

She looked miffed. "Of course. I knew that already. I was just wondering how… I didn't really keep up on news after I left the Academy."

Yuu smiled kindly. His face had outgrown the girlish look, and he had replaced his glasses with contacts. "Well, after you left, everyone was so—well, I didn't have to save you from Imai-san's gun anymore, so I studied harder. The Academy allowed me to skip several grades, and I graduated early. Then I became a manager, and made several stars. After that, I became what I am now."

Neither man noticed the flash of pain across Mikan's face. She smiled to cover it up. "Wow, Yuu-kun. You always were the most responsible and organized person in our class."

"Oh!" Yuu suddenly exclaimed, blushing at the compliment. "I nearly forgot! There are some people I'd like you to meet." He motioned towards a waiter, who nearly tripped over his own feet in his haste to attend to the host. Yuu whispered in his ear, and the waiter rushed off immediately.

Natsume and Mikan exchanged a look. Mikan was thinking, _When did he become so…_ But she wasn't really sure what Yuu had become, so she let the thought go when the waiter rushed back, bringing with him quite a few people.

"Th-they're here, sir," he murmured breathlessly.

Yuu nodded. "Good. You may leave."

The waiter scurried away, and Mikan gaped at the new arrivals. "Sumire Shouda? Koko? Kitsuneme?"

"Mikan!" they simultaneously cried out. Sumire immediately rushed in to hug her. "Oh dahling, where have you been? How are you? Oh, you look absolutely gorgeous! Is that an original? I love your designs! I haven't seen you in so long!"

Mikan was having trouble breathing from Sumire's crushing hug. "I… I thought you… hated me," she choked out.

"Oh dahling, I'm past all that immaturity," she huffed, rolling her eyes.

"And she wants a dress from you," Koko piped up.

Sumire thwacked him on the head with her purse. "No, of course not! …Well, yes, that's true. But really, Mikan, where have you been? We all missed you so much!" she said, dropping the accent and sitting down next to her.

Mikan gave them all a smile. "I missed you guys too," she said quietly. Only Sumire noticed that her smile wasn't quite right. Even Natsume missed it, too busy sulking at having Mikan's attention taken away. Sumire frowned, but quickly smoothed it out, not wanting to get wrinkles.

"Koko and Kitsuneme are now talk show hosts," she informed Mikan. "And I'm a model. Oh, I wonder if we could work together. I adore your designs!"

"Don't forget," Koko added, "We're dating."

Mikan was in shock. Then, "Ohmigosh I'm so happy for you two How long have you been together Why didn't you tell me earlier You make such a cute couple I'm so happy for you two!" She let out in one breath.

Only Sumire wasn't fully freaked out by how much air Mikan had in her lungs. _That's the Mikan I know…_

"Mikan!" A double squeal suddenly rushed at her, a blur of pink and blue.

"Anna?! Nonoko?!" Mikan exclaimed.

"Where have you been?"

"How are you? You look gorgeous!"

"Is that an original? I love your designs!"

"I haven't seen you in so long!"

The two of them said basically the same thing as Sumire. Mikan smiled at them, her smile slightly less forced. "Thanks."

Suddenly, Nonoko bent down and kissed Yuu on the cheek, turning him bright red. "Hey sweetie."

"Ohmigosh Are you dating also I'm so happy for you How long Why didn't you tell me earlier I'm so happy for you You are dating, right?" Mikan gushed.

Nonoko giggled. "Actually… We're engaged."

Mikan's mouth popped open for the first time in eight years. "Oh. Wow."

Nonoko blushed.

"So…when's the wedding?" Mikan asked, still rather shocked.

"We're not sure yet," Yuu said, still scarlet. "I just asked her yesterday. But we're planning to have it in a few months."

Nonoko gasped. "Mikan, could you please please please please please with a Howalon on top design my dress? It would look totally ah-mazing if you did it!" She gave Mikan puppy dog eyes, and Mikan caved.

"Oh, fine."

"Yay!"

"How long have you guys been dating?"

"Both couples started dating a few weeks after you..." Kitsuneme hesitated, "...left."

"What about you, Anna?" Mikan asked, trying not to notice the painful pause.

Anna giggled. "I have enough to deal with, with Nonoko getting married and all. Plus, running an internationally acclaimed bakery isn't exactly the least stressful job in the world."

"Oh come on, Anna!" Nonoko reproved, "I'm a scientist and I have time to get married. Sumire's a much-demanded model and she's dating. And don't even start complaining about stress in front of a prodigious international designer!"

Mikan couldn't repress her laughter, and she started giggling wildly, immediately gaining her friends' attention. She stopped. "What?"

They were staring at her. The girls seemed near tears, and they all suddenly rushed her. "It's been so long since we saw you laugh!" they started wailing.

Mikan was frozen for a few moments, but finally relaxed and began laughing and crying with them. She hadn't realized how much she had missed her friends. But Sumire, being a model that needed different expressions, realized that Mikan's tears were not the happy kind, and her laughter seemed harsher than before.

_Where the hell was Imai when you needed her?_

_

* * *

_Did you like it?

I know, Natsume doesn't talk much. Sorry. And I don't know Kitsuneme name. Did I spell it right?

I had something else I wanted to say... *bangs head on desk* Much better.

Thank you to BestFriend09 and JuSt To RaNdOm for reviewing!

So... review as well? please?


	3. Chapter 3

Hi. Yeah, this chapter's kinda short. Sorry. But I wanted to put it up, because I'll probably forget during the week.

Oh, for those who are confused, in this story:

-There are Alices, but they aren't really important. I think.

-There is no evil elementary school principal, but I might include Persona. NOT AS DARK.

-There was no Alice war or AAO evil plot thing.

I don't own Gakuen Alice. If I did, would I really be posting on ? Seriously.

* * *

"Natsume."

For a moment, Sumire thought that Hotaru had arrived, before mentally berating herself for thinking a guy's voice to be Hotaru. Then she noticed whose voice it was.

"Ruka?!" Everyone shouted as one, barely taking note of the screaming fan girls and the fainting women. After all, the small gathering was made up of the best of the best, the hottest of the hottest, and—even more dramatic ('cause we all love drama)—they all used to go to the same school! With the holy aura surrounding them, it was surprising that the whole room wasn't down from pheromones.

*The previous paragraph was an excerpt from a crazy fan girl's perspective. Before she fainted.

But the participants of this divine group didn't notice at all as they gawked at the newest arrival. Natsume stood.

"Hey," he said shortly as Ruka hesitantly paced towards them.

Ruka licked his lips nervously. "H-hey." He cautiously grasped Natsume's extended hand, as if in a handshake. But they both simultaneously pulled each other into a brief hug—no, not a squealing, crushing, ohmigosh-I-haven't-seen-you-in-so-long hug, but a guy hug that involves bumping shoulders and patting each other hard on the back. A kind of hug that lasts about a millisecond.

But that hug was enough to send another domino episode around the room, right after the general squeal of "Awwww"s. Ruka and Natsume looked around; Ruka started laughing and Natsume cracked a tiny smile, sending out yet another ripple effect of fainting. Finally, they rejoined the others, and the other guys also stood to welcome him back, doing a similar type of hug.

Was it just Mikan's imagination, or did Ruka shoot a guilty look her way before greeting her? To settle her nerves, she also briefly pulled him into a hug. But when he pulled away, she noticed that most people were sweating, and Natsume was sending them both his death glare. No longer too naïve to understand, she rolled her eyes and extended her Nullification from just herself to the entire room, muttering, "Get over it."

Natsume clearly heard her, because he intensified his glare, and she had to keep her Nullification going strong. Even when he let it go, she held onto the protection a few seconds, just in case.

Despite her minimal guilty pleasure at his reaction, she was mainly annoyed by his possessiveness. She was NOT his girlfriend, and certainly not a THING he could own—even though he had seemed to see her as a toy he was unwilling to share, but didn't feel it necessary to be exclusive towards. Just a toy.

She fiercely pushed away the pain. She was sure no one had seen her battle as she watched her friends exclaim over how long Ruka had been gone. She only managed to glean that he had continued at the Academy the entire time, staying with Natsume. But apparently he had been rather unhappy and distant after Hotaru left, and only roomed with Natsume a few days before escaping to another continent across the largest ocean.

Ruka still seemed uncomfortable after the greetings, so she was about to ask what was wrong, when Natsume's earlier words came back. _"—but I think it was partly because of Ruka."_ Hotaru left because of Ruka. So now he was guilty in front of her best friend.

What had he done?

Mikan stiffened, and she knew Ruka had realized that she had understood. He turned, and abashedly opened his mouth to explain, but—

As if on cue, a quiet voice cut through the clamor the girls were making. "Mikan…?"

Everyone froze, and turned as one towards the sound. Standing there, in a shimmering, floor-length violet halter dress, was Hotaru Imai. She looked beautiful. The time in Europe had kept her skin smooth and white, and her hair had grown out, flowing straight down around her shoulders. There was a several silver strands wound loosely around her hips, and sparkling diamonds on her ears and throat completed the look.

Mikan stood, as if in a trance. The two once best friends faced each other, neither saying a word. They were only about ten feet apart, but to Mikan, it felt as if the tension was a tangible force, pushing her away, pressuring her to run. It took a lot of effort—too much effort—to remind herself of who she had become, to remind herself of the promise she had made a week after she left—when she was with Rena.

"_You know, Aima," Rena said, using her made-up name for Mikan, soothingly brushing Mikan's hair, "I don't see why you don't smile."_

_Mikan twisted to look at her blankly, not really listening to the topic Rena had brought up several times before. Instead, she studied the other girl. Rena was tall, with long, straight, blue-black hair and icy blue eyes. But when she was mad, her eyes turned a frightening blood-red. Mikan had only seen that once before, when they first met._

"_You've been through pain, haven't you," Rena said quietly, putting down the brush and twisting Mikan's hair upwards. "But you must smile. To show your enemies, your tormentors, that you are better than them." She bent down, her hair swinging straight down like a curtain. "Do you hear me, Aima? Smile at them, freeze them in fear; either make it look real, or let them know you will kill them. You must smile, Aima. You cannot—ever—run away." She picked up a pin and slid it into the neat chignon._

_Mikan bit her lip. "I can't." Rena picked up an elegant silver pin adorned with delicate flowers._

"_But you must, even if you cannot," Rena murmured, gently sliding in the pin. "You must exhibit strength, Aima. If your tormentors know you are hurting…" she trailed off. "Even if they hurt you until you want to scream, you need to smile. Never let them know your pain. Never run away. Keep your pride, Aima. Even if that's the only thing you have left." She stepped back, allowing Mikan to turn and look in the mirror. Mikan saw a beautiful girl staring back at her, her hair elegantly coiffed, with excess amber locks tumbling gracefully about her neck and shoulders._

_And that day, Rena began teaching Mikan how to smile._

_

* * *

_I don't know I should have let Mikan understand Natsume's jealousy... should I make her more dense in the future?

Is Rena too creepy? I'm kinda obsessed with dark stuff right now... Hehehe...

I didn't label the flashback thing, because I don't want Mikan to remember it at that moment; it's just a scene for the reader.

Tell me what you liked and what you... didn't like as much! (That's what the little Review button is for.) Too funny? Too creepy? Too... meh?


	4. Chapter 4

Hi! So, I actually did remember! :D

Btw, how do you like Rena?

* * *

Mikan took a breath, and she smiled. "Hotaru." _You cannot…_ "It's nice to see you again." _…cannot run away._ "It's been…"_ You must…_ "…eight years. Such a long time!"_…always smile._ "How was Europe?"

Hotaru's eyes opened fractionally wider, and her forehead seemed to crease momentarily. She opened her mouth, then closed it. She opened it again, and this time, managed to produce coherent sounds. "Mikan?" Well, it's a start.

Mikan forced her smile wider. _Help me, Rena._ "The one and only. I'm so glad to see you, Hotaru!"

Hotaru blinked. "Mikan!" She took a few steps forward, before hesitating. Mikan noticed, and rushed forward to envelope Hotaru in a hug. Hotaru raised her trembling hands, and patted Mikan on the back. Only their friends noticed the tentative little smile Hotaru released.

By the time Hotaru extricated herself from Mikan's grasp, the smile had disappeared. Mikan didn't get a chance to see it, but she laughed. "Hotaru didn't shoot me!"

Hotaru took out her baka gun out of… well, I'm not actually sure where she got it from. Huh. Anyway, Mikan froze. But Hotaru put it back… wherever it came from, and sighed, "I can't do this in the public non-Alice world."

Mikan prayed in relief.

"Oh well."

Mikan was flying through the air, and Hotaru was considering the cannon she had just take out. "It still isn't powerful enough," she muttered. Then she turned to the stunned crowd, and said, "Baka Cannon 5001. Best used on idiots. Can automatically target idiots. Easy to use for idiot best friends, idiot spouses, idiot boyfriends that cheat on you, or idiots in general." Suddenly, there was a desk in front of her. "Order now and get a 1% discount."

To everyone's surprise, a line quickly formed, and Hotaru was kept busy for a very long time. Not that she minded collecting money.

Mikan on the other hand, accidentally let her smile slip, and she stared sadly at the cannon, before replacing her smile and calling out, "I need to touch up my make-up. Be right back!"

Only Sumire saw her square her shoulders and breathe deeply before gliding off.

She needed to _breathe_. She desperately needed her space, her air. Not those… _friends_ of hers. Friends. Friends who used her for advertisement, for testing, for… playing around with like an object. Friends that didn't really—_Stop right there, Mikan_.

She sat gingerly on top of the toilet, still fully clothed. She sighed, and put her head in her hands, rubbing her temple. Being around these people again was giving her a migraine. And heartburn.

She allowed one droplet to escape, before drawing up all her pride and dignity, and sealing off those traitorous tear glands. _Help me, Rena._

She stood. The toilet automatically flushed as she walked out the stall door. She halted at the sight in the mirror.

THAT was not the Mikan her friends were supposed to know. THAT was a hollow, tired, broken young woman who looked weak, vulnerable, and ghostily pallid. The chignon she had tried to emulate Rena with was coming apart. She couldn't let her friends—she couldn't let anybody see her like that. They would pity her, then abandon her. She couldn't be so… _pathetic_.

She sighed and reached for that overused makeup kit in her purse.

"Where's Polka-dots?"

Sumire threw him an angry glare—her cat side was coming out—and hissed, "You didn't _notice?!_"

"Notice what?" Mikan stepped next to her. "What did Natsume not notice this time?"

Sumire rolled her eyes. "Never mind."

Mikan shrugged. "Okay…"

Sumire stopped, and studied Mikan's face. Something was off… she had applied more foundation than before. And bronzer. _What did you do, Mikan?_

But the object of study had already moved over to Ruka, who was staring at Hotaru. "Hey," she whispered, and he jumped. She covered his mouth before he could yell. "Sorry, but you don't want Hotaru to know you're watching, right?" She waited for him to calm down before releasing him.

"I guess."

She nodded knowingly. "So… can you tell me why Hotaru apparently left the Academy?"

Ruka jerked his hand threw his hair, messing it up. "I… Sakura-san—"

"Mikan."

"What? Oh. Mikan, I… um… Sorry, Sa—Mikan, but can you… not ask that… right now?" He swallowed. "Sorry, it's just…"

"Personal?" Mikan sighed. "I understand." She patted his shoulder rather sorrowfully, though it looked merely sympathetic to everyone else. "Everyone has secrets, or things they just don't want to tell. It's fine." No one could see the _empathy_.

Ruka's nervous face relaxed. "Thanks, Sa—Mikan." His expression morphed to worry. "Are you—I mean, you seem… different. You aren't as … hyper." _Happy,_ he replaced in his head.

Mikan chuckled. "I suppose. That's what happens when you grow up. You leave things like that behind."

Ruka hoped he imagined that flicker of pain.

"So… what are you doing in America?"

"Wha—Oh. I'm a surgeon." Ruka grimaced. "The blood isn't fun, but the happiness is worth it."

"Unless it fails," Mikan muttered, barely audible.

Ruka hoped his ears were having issues. "What was that?"

"Oh, sorry," Mikan said sheepishly. "I was just wondering it's going to hail." She gestured vaguely at a window. Sure enough, the clouds were gathering, dark and ominous.

Ruka looked at her carefully. There was a tiny crease between her eyebrows.

"Ruka? Are you listening?" Mikan waved a hand in front of his face. "Ruka?"

"Huh? Oh," he blinked. "Sorry."

She just chuckled. Again.

_Mikan doesn't chuckle, she laughs._

"Someone's a little spacey today."

He smiled with her, even as his forehead imitated hers.

"So, I was asking—"

"Hey Ruka, do you want a drink?" Natsume smoothly stepped in between them, glowering dangerously at nothing.

_Maybe I shouldn't have talked with Mikan that long…_ Ruka sweated, nervous again. "Uh…" Unwisely, he glanced at Mikan for help. Natsume's glower intensified. Luckily for him, he was facing away from Mikan.

Mikan just sighed, and threw her hands up in surrender. "You may be spacey, but you're also in high demand today, it seems." She chuckled. _Don't chuckle._ "I'll just have to talk to you later." She waved, turned, and swished away.

"N-Natsume…" Ruka gulped. "We were just talking about…" He faltered at Natsume's look.

Natsume shook his head. "I know."

That was the closest to an apology he would likely ever get, and he smiled softly. It's not like it was totally unbased. Well, it was, but he understood. Kind of.

The best friends walked in comfortable silence to the bar.

The other best friends… seemed to be avoiding each other completely. One was still taking orders and raking in money, while the other was flittering and fluttering about, chittering and chattering with just about everyone.

Well, the first wasn't exactly avoiding the other. She was just sitting there, after all. But every now and then, she would distractedly glance around the room to search for the other, then quickly return to work.

And the second… didn't seem to be paying any attention. She was merely discussing who-knows-what with random people, each time different. How exactly did she transition? Who knew Mikan could become so socially skilled. But it didn't seem like Mikan; instead of her full-on cheerful grin, she was wearing a small, courteously amiable smile the entire time. Only people who knew her from long ago could notice how pasted-on it looked.

Or at least, that's what it seemed like. Mikan without her bipolar mood swings and near schizophrenic behavior just… wasn't Mikan. The other friends observed the tension between the two friends, which they had _thought_ had already been dispelled.

"Mikan's acting strange," Anna frowned.

Nonoko added, "She's not smiling a lot."

"Maybe she's just feeling off today," Yuu suggested, "Everyone has off days."

Kitsuneme said, "But Mikan isn't affected that easily. She's like… super recovery girl."

Sumire pursed her lips, but remained silent. Girl?

"She might be sick," Koko put in.

Sumire's frown deepened. True, Mikan wasn't as frighteningly cheerful as before. But Sumire was perfectly fine with that; that attitude had annoyed the hell out of her. Usually. But Mikan now was—"Ow! What the hell, Koko!"

"You're going to get wrinkles if you keep frowning like that," Koko told her, grinning. "Don't make yourself any more ugly than you are already."

"Uglier," Yuu corrected automatically.

She walloped both of them with her purse, and shoved Mikan's problems to a corner of her mind. Mikan would survive. Koko, on the other hand…

"How uncivilized," Mrs… Whatever-her-name-was-now tsked. "Chasing a boy around like a buffoon is so unladylike."

Mikan turned to look at the object of scrutiny. A black and green haired young woman was running around in stilettos trying to hit a laughing man.

"My goodness," What's-her-face continued, "acting like little children. How immature. Now _you_, Mikan my dear, would _never_ act like that." Her face pinched up. "And making money off of guns. Ugh." She shuddered.

Mikan thought absently, _Now I know why old people have wrinkles._ It was a habit of hers, using amusing ideas to push away bad memories. "Mm hm," she assented, rather mindlessly.

The elder woman pinched her face up even more. "Now that you mention it"—_you mentioned it, you hag_—"you were talking with them earlier. You don't _know_ them, do you, _dear_?" She somehow managed to look down her nose at Mikan, despite Mikan being taller.

Mikan was silent for a moment. "No, of course not."

The woman sniffed haughtily. "Of course you wouldn't, my dear. How could I even think that." She shuddered again. "Mikan dearie, you are sometimes too kind. You don't need to show courtesy to people like that."

_You must smile._ Mikan said, "Of course, Madame Leclaire." She smiled. "Thank you for gracing me with your wisdom. I don't know them at all."

* * *

Is that an okay ending? Hm.

I think I might put the rest of the party in the next chapter, but I was too lazy to write it into this one. But there isn't much, so the next chapter will probably be really short. I don't know when I'll have time to post again. Technically, I should be doing my project right now. Bleh.

Review so that I feel like getting a sucky grade is worth it! (No, I won't actually get a sucky grade. Hopefully.)


	5. Chapter 5

Waaah! I'm an idiot! *bangs head on wall* I'm an idiot! *bangs head on wall* I'm an idiot! *bangs head on wall* I'm an idiot! *bangs head on wall*

Okay, now that I'm done losing brain cells, I should explain:

I haven't thanked my reviewers! So, now I'm going to list all my reviewers from the very beginning to right now.

dbzgtfan2004-Thank you for the encouragement!

JeZ-Amutolover110-I'm glad. She turned out a little on the creepy side though... Thanks anyway!

Najika Tsubasa-chan-Thank you. Should I incorporate Madame Leclaire later? (She's supposed to be a minor character.)

JuSt To RaNdOm-Wait for it... the past will come in time. (But shouldn't that be the future???)

IceGirl7-Dramatic effects are awesome!

lenprz-Does that mean you are what is called the mysterious "Anonymous"? Ooh.... I'm glad you noticed the Sumire thing... I'm kind of pro-minor characters right now. (Persona, Jacob, etc.) And-muahahaha!- I'm always such a feminist. Maybe I'll make her shun him later on...Natsume probably hates me right now. ;P

-Tribal Addict--Thanks! I am awesome, after all... okay, maybe not, but you get my point. What was my point?

TheBlackSwallow-Good authors should be leaving you with questions. Or at least that's what I tell myself to feel better.

tmoshi-I love that smiley! =) Everyone always uses colons instead. Thanks!

Ah Hael-Thank you for telling me the obvious. Hehe... I'm an idiot, aren't I? (Why do I feel like I've said that before?) Sorry I didn't clarify earlier. I'm glad you think that a stronger Mikan is good; at first I was worried readers would think she wasn't "Mikan-y" enough, but it was too hard to write super silliness without making her annoying. I was aiming to let the reader admire her, hopefully, or at least see her more as an adult.

BestFriend09-First reviewer! Yay!

So... as I said to Ah Hael, I apologize for not clarifying something: This is a semi-alternate universe, semi-actual future fic. So, this fic gives them Alices, but Natsume is somewhat more mature and doesn't burn things as much. It mostly just provides more context. But there is NO evil elementary school principal, and Luna will probably be just a- I don't wanna swear!- rather than a weird evil minion thing. There was also NO Alice war with the AAO, although I might let the AAO be mentioned.

I haven't written (or really planned) the rest out, so... yeah. I know, lazy much? Sigh.

This chapter is really short. I'm kind of afraid the Author's Note here is actually longer.

I also haven't put in any disclaimers. Gasp. I don't know what will happen if I don't (aliens?) so... I don't own Gakuen Alice. That's why there's a "dis"-a.k.a negative- in front of the "claimer."

(Looking back, I have a lot of ...s and ()s, don't I? Hm.)

* * *

After finally escaping Madame Leclaire's expounding on the issue of prejudice–"Really, my dear. There is so much dreadful bigotry these days," she had sighed—Mikan slipped back to the bathroom to compose herself, as she had done before.

Resuming her serene, poised façade, she began walking back to her friends. She was stopped by a handsome young man, who asked her to dance.

She didn't bother to hear his introduction, but pretended to listen and needlessly told him her name as well. They made their way together towards the dance floor, chatting aimlessly.

Her took her hand and placed his other on her waist, while hers went automatically to his shoulder. He smiled as they began to step back and forth. She mirrored him mechanically as they began to dance.

The same happened quite a few times, with so many different men that she stopped counting. Well, she never was counting in the first place.

One young man who requested a dance had a smile rather similar to a leer she had seen before. Where?

"How is your company doing?" he asked as he spun her.

"Well," she replied without hesitation. She suddenly realized he was all too close, his body pressed against hers, his lips only a few centimeters away…

Then she felt herself being pulled backwards, away from him, by a viselike grip. She stumbled in her heels, and fell against a familiar body.

"Thank you for keeping my date company while I was busy," the newcomer said shortly. "Come on Mikan, we're going now."

In shock, she followed him off of the dance floor before halting in her tracks. He stopped as well, and looked back at her.

"What—What exactly _was_ that?!" she seethed, barely able to form rational sentences in her fury. "Treating me like an object—a thing—I don't even get to say a word—What the hell were you _thinking_, Natsume?!"

He shrugged carelessly.

Her eye began twitching. "You—you—you—!"

He gave an irritated sigh. "What's the big deal?" he growled, almost threateningly. "I just prevented a pervert from harassing you."

She couldn't collect herself. She reminded herself of her reputation, or her business. She made the smart choice, and stomped away in rage to calm down in private.

Natsume slid into a chair and held his head in his hands.

"Excuse me," Mikan said to a nearby waiter. "Excuse me, sir."

"Yes ma'am?"

She handed him a piece of paper, precisely folded. "Do you see that man over there, the one with black hair and red eyes? Yes, him. Could you please give this to him?"

He nodded. "Of course. What name would you like me to say as the sender?"

"Oh, don't bother," she smiled charmingly at him, "he'll know as soon as he opens it."

She swished off, her dress swaying enchantingly as the waiter stared, dumbfounded.

Now THAT was how one works a Mikan Sakura original.

_I'm going home. Goodbye._

That was exactly what she had given him. A sheet of paper with four words on it. And she hadn't even bothered to say it in person.

That goodbye sounded too final for him to be comfortable. He excused himself and speed walked to the door. The night outside was refreshingly cool, and the moon was full and beautiful. But it was silent, too silent.

She was gone. Again.

He didn't even know how she had gotten home. He prayed she hadn't been so stupid as to walk. He rushed into his car and started the engine, nearly burning the entire vehicle when it momentarily stalled. Luckily for him and his car, it quickly got started and he set off towards her house, driving slowly enough so that he could see anyone on the sidewalk.

He reached her home. To his relief, the lights were on. She was safe.

But he had to check. He rang the doorbell. He could imagine her swearing at the disturbance.

Light spilled onto the porch when she opened the door. He hoped his relief didn't show on his face—

"What the hell are you doing here?"

He blinked. He didn't have an excuse.

"Natsume, answer me."

He thought frantically, and spied a rosebush with blooms that hadn't quite opened yet.

"Natsume—"

"Here." He quickly broke off one bloom with a long stem and handed it to her.

She was speechless. "…You… you do realize you just killed one of my roses? And then gave it to me?"

He looked at her, abashed.

Then, to his immense surprise, she began laughing. Laughing like she used to, more carefree and actually _happy_ than she had been all night. He felt his lips being unwillingly tugged upwards. Then she hugged him, and his semi-smile disappeared out of shock.

Embarrassed, she immediately pulled back, thanked him, and shut the door in his face. He didn't particularly mind. He was perfectly happy with being the cause of that adorable shade of pink that had spread like a virus across her cheeks.

In a daze, he strolled back to his car, sat down, and drove about a block away, where he was sure she couldn't see him. Then he parked in front of a random stranger's house and sighed contentedly.

That was the best evening he'd had for eight frickin' years, and he was going to remember it for as long as he could, dammit. No one could take a memory away from him.

* * *

Weird ending. I don't like it, but do you?

Review button! I accept compliments, suggestions, elements you liked/disliked, constructive criticism, or even-*deep breath*-FLAMES. What are flames?


	6. Chapter 6

The beginning is a little strange.... I don't get it.

Thanks to:

Najika Tsubasa-chan-Author's license, right?

-Tribal Addict--Sorry... I didn't mean to make her so cheerful. And my math does suck. If anyone else is reading this, the note Mikan left was actually five words. Hehe. Is a RISE-YOUR-EYEBROWS KIND OF ENDINGa good thing or a bad thing?

IceGirl7-Muahahaha! Toldya I was pro-Cause-Natsume-Pain! I know, sadistic right? Thanks.

YesThatsme-Craving. Nice word choice.

JuSt To RaNdOm-^-^v to you too!

--for reviewing. You are all awesome!

Je n'ai pas Gakuen Alice. For those of you not in french, it means I don't have Gakuen Alice. Yes, that's basically all I know. No, I don't know how to say "own."

Et voila!

* * *

"_Your name…"_

_**A blur of black on black on black.**_

"…_don't have one?"_

_**Silver.**_

"_Can't you speak?"_

_**Crimson…**_

"_Are… hurt?"_

_**Crimson staining silver, crimson soaking black, crimson flowers on the ground…**_

"…_hungry? Tired?"_

_**Crimson eyes…**_

"_Come on, speak!"_

_**Beautiful.**_

"_Speak!"_

"…_N—Natsume?"_

_**Pure black.**_

Mikan rubbed her head. Did that count as a nightmare? She couldn't remember half of it. There was definitely red… But no pain. No pain whatsoever. It wasn't her red. She sat up, steadying herself as she adjusted to the change.

She took a step… and fell.

"Crap!"

Her ankle was throbbing. Too much dancing, probably. Then she spied the rose on her table. _What the—oh. _Right. Natsume had given it to her last night. After picking it from her own garden.

_Crimson eyes_.

Mikan's mouth popped open. The eyes in her dream were the same color as the rose. Blood-red.

So that dream was about meeting Rena. She sighed. When was she going to get over the fact that Rena was gone?

She stood up painfully, dragging herself over to the rose. Strangely, it hadn't withered even slightly yet. If anything, it looked even deeply crimson than it had on the bush. Maybe Natsume had some sort of magical touch.

She reached out to stroke its petals, and the flower blackened and withered. She drew her fingers back before the entire thing disintegrated into ash in the vase.

If Natsume had a magic touch, she had death-on-contact. And people wondered why she sympathized with Persona.

*~*

Mikan limped towards her office. The newspaper was hung on her doorknob, just the way she liked. She grabbed it and made her way in, collapsing with relief in her chair before looking at the paper.

Nothing really interesting. Just a bunch of stupid politicians with career-killing affairs or useless bills.

Business… she would look later. Natsume's name was in there.

Arts and Leisure… Leisure? Her life? Yeah, right.

Entertainment? Idiotic beyond belief. So why were she and Hyuuga plopped on the front page?

**NATSUME SEEN WITH NEW GIRL**

_**HAS MIKAN REPLACED LUNA?**_

It's a well known fact that Natsume Hyuuga, twenty three year old investor extraordinaire, is one of the most wanted young men in the country. But, he's also known for switching girls fast, from two days to two months in between. Most recently, he has been seen attending a high-class event with Luna Koizumi, a renowned model, known mostly for her willingness to do anything in a photoshoot. Literally, anything. Several witnesses reported that she kissed him violently quite a few times in public, and her racy photos are scattered everywhere, throughout those hidden magazines many teenage boys have in their closets.

But last night, Natsume attended a former classmate, Tobita Yuu's party with Mikan Sakura, a star designer at also twenty three years old. She is known for her hard work and prodigious talent. Rumor has it that Mikan and Natsume used to attend the same school, the secretive Gakuen Alice, which has produced millions of geniuses over the years. No wonder these two VIPs are already at the top. A reliable source has told us that Natsume and Mikan in fact, used to date! Are they getting back together now? What caused them to break up in the first place?

Natsume's cold attitude is famous. It is now synonymous with any picture of him, but that sure doesn't put off the ladies. Rather, it seems to attract them, along with his looks. Perhaps Mikan became jealous and began acting badly, causing their split? We all know that Natsume will immediately cut it off with a woman once she gets too clingy. Maybe

_Continued on page 6_

Mikan snorted lightly. Who would read that junk?

"I can't believe she used to date him!" a voice carried loud and clear through the open door. Apparently, her secretary had a guest.

But her secretary was smart. "Uh, Azumi—"

"Ugh, that's disgusting," whoever it was continued.

"Azumi—"

"I can't believe she thinks she can just hang all over him like that."

Mikan rolled her eyes and sent some wind to gently slam the door. She looked back at the picture. She was NOT hanging on him. She was barely touching him! Just the usual arm-in-arm thing where—

Oh god. She's starting to sound like those idiotic girls in those idiotic mangas who prove that they're in love with some perfect guy by constantly denying it. Her life isn't like that.

For one thing, she isn't in love with Natsume. She just… Well, she isn't.

And in her life, she doesn't end up with the guy, and there isn't a happily ever after.

Because in her life, the guy doesn't love her back.

Mikan studied her sketches. At the moment, she was interested in color effects and other illusions she could create with fabric. Hm… Women want to look thin and tall nowadays. Seriously, they need to get over the photo-shopped supermodels on magazine covers. Ugh.

Light and dark… playing with shadows?

Maybe she could use some of those designs from old Europe, where they used patterns to make them look thinner. What was it again?

She opened her laptop and input the password. She had just opened up a browser when she heard a knock on the door and her secretary entered.

"Sakura-sama," she bowed, "There's group outside that wants to see you."

"Do they have an appointment?" Mikan sighed; she had forgotten her idea.

"No, but—"

"Show them out."

The secretary hesitated. "But… they are very important people."

"How important?" Mikan said absentmindedly, tapping her fingers on the keyboard.

"Um, there's a super model, a famous patissier, a scientist, and an inventor," the secretary ticked off on her fingers.

Mikan looked up. "Fine, let them come in." Didn't matter now; her idea had long since skipped away. She sighed impatiently, moving her drumming fingers onto a folder.

Sumire, Anna, Nonoko, and Hotaru walked in. Sumire, Anna, and Nonoko were obviously very excited, looking around fervently, eyes shining.

Mikan sighed, heavier now. It was _so_ not the time for this.

"Ohmigosh ohmigosh ohmigosh!" Sumire squealed. She didn't seem to be able to push anything else out; she was so excited that she was choking.

Mikan opened her sketchbook to a new page and unconsciously began doodling, her practiced wrist and hands moving in familiar, swift motions to sketch the basic form of a slender woman's body.

Hotaru shot Sumire with her (still in development) Baka cannon.

Mikan absentmindedly added more strokes to create a strapless dress, tightly fitted around the torso, and flowing out from the hips down.

Anna and Nonoko helped Sumire up. Sumire was still too dazed to be even slightly angry.

As Mikan added the sweeping folds around the bottom, Sumire rushed up to her and grabbed the folder underneath her other hand.

"What's in here?" she said animatedly. She didn't bother for an answer, and opened it up. She gasped. "This is amazing, Mikan!"

Mikan glared as an answer, snatching it back and growling in irritation. "Don't. Touch. My. Stuff." She enunciated every word with deadly clearness, making the threat very obvious.

–except to Sumire. "Please please please," she begged, "Can I be your model? Please please please please please with a Howalon on top." She repeated the same sequence she had used at the party.

Mikan held a hand to her forehead, sighing for the third time in two minutes. She tried to calm herself. _Breathe in, breathe out._

"Plea—"

"Ahhh!" she semi-screeched out of frustration. "Fine already, okay?! Fine! Geez, Permy." She flumped into her chair and put her head in her hands.

"Yay!" Sumire clapped her hands happily.

"Us too, us too!" Anna and Nonoko added brightly. "We want to model your clothes as well!"

Mikan shot them a ??? look, and they pouted.

"Whaaat? We can't try modeling for once?"

Mikan sighed—yet again—and slumped down, her head in her arms. She grunted noncommittally, and the non-twin-twins took it as assent. They began jumping and squealing together.

Hotaru had merely watched the previous proceedings impassively, but her ear twitched when the girls suddenly dragged her over and started whining, "Can Hotaru-chan model with us? It'll totally be like a—a—a reunion or something."

"It's only four people," Hotaru muttered, but her remark was ignored.

"This is so—totally—awesome!" Anna and Nonoko shrieked together, not even paying attention to Mikan's answer.

No one heard Mikan's tiny sigh. "Just get out of here…" It was halfway to a whimper, her voice laced with pain. No one saw her miniature grimace as she tensely pulled herself up.

"Reika-san will show you out," she said, gesturing towards the door. As if on cue, the secretary came in and bowed.

"But—"

"I have work," Mikan said, trying almost desperately to hide the hurt and inject some casual teasing into her tone. "Get out." She didn't want it to seem too harsh, so she smiled.

The girls pranced out, Sumire and Hotaru looking back once before the door closed. Sumire's foreheard was furrowed in a way that Koko would have gotten beaten up for, while Hotaru's mouth was tightened in worry.

Mikan didn't see, her head bent so that her friends couldn't notice the blurring tears pricking at her eyes as she clutched her stomach underneath the desk.

"I'll be going now," Reika stammered.

"Wait," Mikan blinked the liquid away and looked at her. "I'm going to be obsessively working for a few hours or so, so don't come in and don't let anyone else in until I tell you otherwise."

The secretary nodded, not seeing the redness around her employer's eyes. She knew Mikan had times when she wanted to be alone and work with no distractions.

As soon as Reika had closed the door, Mikan barely had time to telekinetically lock the door before she collapsed, shuddering. Seeing her friends had brought on a relapse.

She made a mental note to fire Shibata Azumi by the end of the day. Then she vomited blood, and the idea was erased from her mind.

This is why she had specifically requested sound-proof walls.

* * *

*grins evilly*

Wheee! Whizzing around room! Muahahahhahhahaha! Whoops double h in there. ...Oh well! Wheeee!

Sugar high, sugar high, sugar high...

Oh. Hehehe. Hi. Didn't see you there.

Um...yeah. Review?

(Yes, I am actually on a sugar high.)

Patissier isn't actually a word. Just putting that out there.

Panda!


	7. Chapter 7

C'est moi!

Je sais, je sais; c'est mes vacances! Je ne dois pas faire le fanfiction!

I am ashamed of how much brainwork that took me. Sigh. If you can read it, good for you. 'Cause I'm not sure I can.

Thanks to:

JuSt To RaNdOm- Muahahaha!

bunnyjumps- If I do a fashion show, don't laugh at my unoriginality. Great suggestion... if only I weren't an idiot.

Najika Tsubasa-chan- I love ?????s. I'm evil. What can I say?

-Tribal Addict-- Secrets make a person interesting.

Also, since most of you commented on it-- yes, she vomited blood. Now Mikan hates me too. Sniffle.

Ce qui je n'ai pas, c'est Gakuen Alice. I'm not sure if that was correct grammar. Bleh.

I still don't know how to say own in french.

And if you didn't get it: I DON'T OWN GAKUEN ALICE, SMART ONE!

...I'm a hypocrite.

* * *

Never Again

Chapter 7

She felt like crap.

Mikan dragged herself through the doorway of her home, easing out of her uncomfortable high heels. She didn't really have the energy to eat, so she pulled herself to her bedroom with sheer determination alone. As she stumbled from the hardwood hallway to the soft carpet of her room, her foot caught on the level change and twisted.

_Why is the floor rising?_

She went down with a thump, instinctively falling on her side to minimize injury. She felt so helpless, lying there in her rumpled suit, the bitter taste of blood still in her mouth, unable to be rinsed out. Her neat bun had fallen apart, her entire body was stiff, and her makeup was dripping sideways.

She mindlessly rolled onto her back, trying to loosen her limbs. She noticed the miserable lump of ashes sitting in a glass vase on her dresser.

She felt like _serious_ crap.

Usually, now was the point—when the damsel in distress was in her greatest time of need—that the knight in shining armor of Prince Charming or Prince Charming in shining armor would come rushing in, defend her from all evil, and sweep her into her arms for the beginning of a happily ever after.

Oh, who was she kidding?

Okay, proof: 1) She was not some brainless "damsel", 2) she was not "in distress", 3) who the hell wears armor nowadays?, 4) fatigue is annoying, but isn't evil, 5) being swept into someone's arms makes one sound like a pile of dust, 6) being swept into someone's arms probably isn't very comfortable, and 7) life sucks; get over it.

Number seven in particular.

She used these reasons to fuel her… _perseverance_, added that force to her pride, and agilely forced herself to her feet. The sudden shift caused her to feel dizzy, lose her balance, and fall onto her knees. She was having trouble breathing, and there was dull, throbbing pain in her chest. For a moment, the familiar situation caused a flashback, and she started having trouble distinguishing between reality and memory.

"_Ahh—!" she screamed, her voice violently choked off, as one of the men pinned her slim throat to the hard, cold, brick wall with a tense fist._

She couldn't breathe…

_She heard them snicker, laughing at her pain._

Why was the world laughing at her? What had she done wrong this time?

_She felt stinging on her scalp as the man raked his thick fingers through her hair, roughly pulling out many tangles acquired from days of relentless travel. She couldn't cry out, her breath still caught._

She pulled at her hair, terrified by the old images, intensified by age. She rolled around on the carpet, scratching the minimal bare skin with the roughness.

_She tried to kick at him, but he barely felt it. Yet he snarled curses at her and slid down her jacket zipper with his free hand. He reached in—_

Her chest was being constricted. She couldn't _breathe._

_She was suddenly gasping for breath, crumpling onto the cold, wet ground, hardly registering the shrieks and screams of the men. One of them had elbowed her in the chest as they pushed away. When she had partially regained consciousness, she looked hazily at the source of the noise, and her eyes opened wide in horror._

_The men were being tossed about by a flash of a shadow. The men themselves were cloaked in darkness, but their silhouettes in the fog were fairly light compared to the intensity of pure night emanating from the new figure. Every time the shadow would flash out an barely visible extension, crimson would appear like magic. Soon, there was only the shadow standing, now with spots of dark red. Where the face would have been, there were two red lights—_

_Her vision was blurring, she could barely understand that the darkness was coming for her—_

"_What's your name?" the shadow was asking._

_Black._

"_You don't have one?"_

_The shadow wasn't just black; it was holding silver, and it was red, and it was white…_

"_Can't you speak?"_

_No, the silver was a-a—a weapon of some sort, and the white was a face…?_

"_Are you hurt?"_

_There was crimson on the silver too, and some on the black. There was some crimson on the face as well… _

"_Are you hungry? Tired?"_

_The crimson on the face was eyes… but wait, there was more crimson on the face._

"_Come on, speak!"_

_Suddenly, the world focused._

_The shadow was a person—a beautiful person. Deep crimson eyes, with long eyelashes, slightly tanned skin, shimmering black hair, multitudes of earrings, and strange crimson swirls on the face. The person was holding a simple dagger, now dripping with blood onto the puddles on the concrete._

"_Speak!" the vision repeated._

_Natsume._

"_N—Natsume?" she finally breathed. She caught one last look of the incredible, mesmerizing crimson before the image blurred._

_Fade out._

It took some time for Mikan to calm down. She eventually laid on her back in the middle of the floor, inhaling and exhaling deeply, the pattern occasionally interrupted by hitches in her breath.

She allowed one guilty thought to escape before hauling herself to her feet and lurching to her closet. But even she could not suppress the longing, no matter how she fooled herself into thinking she could.

She wished Natsume were there.

* * *

Her head was ringing.

Her eyes fluttered open, but her eyelids dropped like weights after a few seconds.

No, her head wasn't ringing; something _next _to her head was.

She reached out and blindly grasped her slim, cool cell phone. She brought it to her ear and slid it open. "Hello?" she said blearily.

"Hey Mikan-chan!"

The sharp, excited voice shrilling in her ear snapped her eyes open. _Oh dear god…_

"It's Tsubasa!"

"…Hi."

"Aw, you don't sound very happy to hear from me."

"That's because I'm not."

"Don't be so mean—hey!" Tsubasa faded and was replaced by a matter-of-fact woman's voice.

"Hi Mikan."

"Hey Misaki."

"Sorry about Tsubasa—" Mikan could hear his whining in the background "—he's usually not such an idiot."

"...Yeah, sure."

Misaki laughed. "I know, but it's good to be nice right—you baka, stop touching me before I stuff your—" Misaki covered the phone for a moment "—Sorry."

Mikan fiddled with the little charm on her phone. "Don't worry, I'm used to it." She noticed that Tsubasa could no longer be heard.

Misaki laughed again, and Tsubasa began wailing in the background, "I wanna talk Gimme the phone I wanna talk What's Mikan saying—" etc. Suddenly, there was a loud thud, and his voice disappeared again.

Mikan rolled over in bed, unwilling to get up. "So that's what married life is like, huh? Can't wait."

There was a rare silence.

"Actually Mikan, that's what I meant to call about—before the idiot took my phone."

Mikan buried her face in her pillow.

"I heard you went to a party with Natsume."

Mikan didn't deny nor affirm it; it was in the paper after all.

"I just…You know you can come to Tsubasa or me if you ever—if he ever hurts you," Misaki said softly. "We'll kill him for you."

Mikan rolled back over and laughed, but it stuck in her throat and came out harshly forced, even to her ears. "Yeah. You know I can't…" She didn't finish, but Misaki understood. She had been the one to comfort her whenever Mikan couldn't get mad at Natsume for some reason or another.

"Well... I hear your friends are going to model for your designs!"

"…Sumire has the loudest, most obnoxious voice I have ever heard."

"I see. Can I join?"

_Dear god, kill me now._

"Can I? Mikan?"

"Are. You. Serious?" Mikan deadpanned in monotone.

"Um, yes…?"

Mikan reminded herself of her ability to break people's eardrums. "I… you know what, I really don't give a damn anymore," she sighed, trying to breathe without screaming.

"Then can I call Aoi?"

Mikan bolted upright. "You have Aoi's number? Aoi Hyuuga?"

"Yes… We do work together."

Mikan cursed herself for sitting up so quickly; her head was spinning. "God, Misaki."

"What did I do? She's a makeup artist, I'm a stylist. We _work_ together Mikan."

Mikan sighed again. "Ugh. Invite her, whatever. Do what you want."

"Awesome! When should we come in? I'll contact the other girls if you want—and I think I have Nobara and Yura and maybe even Yuri—"

"Gah!" Mikan clambered to her feet. "Just have them send their schedules to my secretary. You know her email."

"Got it!" Misaki sang. "See you later, bye!"

Mikan growled when she heard the dial tone. So far, NOT a good day.

* * *

_Dear God,_

_Thank you for all the kindness you have shown me thus far. However, I do not think I am strong enough to survive everything you have dropped on me. I profusely apologize for any crimes I may soon commit, be it assault or homicide. Please forgive me._

_I am truly, sincerely sorry._

_Mikan Sakura_

Mikan prowled through the hallway. She needed to install a coffee machine in her room. Along with an aspirin dispenser. No, then she'd probably kill herself, so forget the aspirin.

At least she'd fired Shibata Azumi. Sadly, that was the only bright part of her day. Incompetence was not accepted here at—what was her company's name again?

Any employees skittered around her, their shaking, sweating hands nearly dropping all their papers as they took in the dark aura surrounding her. If nothing else, she had learned at least _that _from Rena.

After she retrieved her coffee, her mood lightened considerably. Not that that was saying much; she still had a shadow surrounding her. She stalked back to her office.

She wasn't feeling good as she entered her secretary's office, which was like an anteroom before anyone could reach her office. It was a reasonably large room, taken up mostly by chairs lining the walls for people to sit in and several large desks.

Reika-san was her secretary, but it was a stressful job, so she had two assistants. To ease the boredom, Mikan also allowed them to bring in other people, so long as they completed their work well and the guests did not touch anything.

"Reika-san, I have a lot of work to do if I'm going to finish by the time the new 'models' come over," she said as she entered. "Could you—" She broke off when she saw them.

Why are they standing there? She realized a second too late that she had spoken aloud.

Literally, ALL of them were there. Hayate was mooning after Hotaru, who was having a staring match with Subaru, Ruka was constantly glancing at them gloomily as he talked on the phone, Sumire was beating Koko up, Rui was hanging onto Tsubasa as Misaki loomed over them dangerously, Tsubasa was breaking out into a cold sweat, Wakako was admiring the design of the office, Yuri was trying to get Reika's (female) assistants off of her, Nobara was sulking in the corner, Kitsuneme was flirting with Reika, Nonoko was ranting about some new element to a confused Anna, Yura was spacing off towards the wall, Yuu was frantically typing on his computer, Youichi and Aoi seemed to be off in their own world, Kaname was handing a new toy to Shizune to play with, Megane seemed to be inhabiting a chair, Sakurano was wondering why a chair was hopping around, Mochu was looking at a magazine for hair growth products, and Natsume was glaring at Akira/Tono who was about to jump on her.

And Mikan's jaw was dropping.

And Tono was pouncing.

And the room was heating up.

And Mikan was sighing. Why was the world against her today?

* * *

:3

o-.-o

Does that look like anything?

Btw, fellow authors, I need some help:

After a chapter is posted, if documents expire, will the chapter disappear? Please help me, I don't want my hard work to vanish!

If I'm being a total idiot, feel free to let me know.

Review!


	8. Chapter 8

Thanks to:

JuSt To RaNdOm- to clarify, they have Alices, there was Persona, but there was no evil principal... even though they somehow know Rui, Nobara, Hayate, etc.... o.o?

greentulip- someone likes smileys... =)

Najika Tsubasa-chan- I know, everyone likes Natsume to be jealous.... oh well. ^-^

2Lazy2MakeAnAccount- (Actually, it should be "que," not "qui" or "quoi"... ) Okay, so. That was a really long review and you included a lot of stuff in it but I'm not really sure if I can write "moments" because I'm the most unromantic person I know (other than my best friend who is super innocent and all) and I'm in middle school so my only research can be from other people's fics.

-Tribal Addict--...You sound like Hotaru with the $_$ and all... *shivers*

kiers- thanks for calling me an impressive writer, but according to my english teacher... I guess my fiction is better than my essays. XD

- why does everyone say hahaha? Is my story that funny...?

IceGirl7- *cries* Mikan _haaates_ me! And it's all... wait, it's all _my_ fault? Oh. Never mind.

Sakura Breeze- Thank you!

ღ

So, according to responses, a chapter does NOT disappear when the document disappears. Thanks, that lowered my risk of a heart attack. I think.

BTW, before I forget... I'm going skiing for a few days, so I won't be able to write, so I won't be able to update for a week or so. Sorry.

I don't own Gakuen Alice. 'Cause I would have spent more time making Natsume jealous. I know, sadistic much?

**

* * *

Never Again**

Chapter 8

_I used to think my life was perfect._

Mikan had a strong urge to destroy everything around her, particularly Tono who was still hanging onto her like a koala.

—No, wait. She had built all of this, and she wasn't going to turn it to ashes just because of this.

No matter how much she wanted to annihilate the creatures in front of her—especially Misaki.

"Misaki?" she said with a demonically sweet smile. "Why is everyone here?"

After she had kicked Rui into Nobara's corner, where he began hugging her (she seemed unaffected), and while she punched Tsubasa into the wall, Misaki replied, "You said I could do whatever I wanted." She, along with Hotaru, Natsume, Tono, Rui, and Nobara were the only ones who were unfazed by the Mikan-demons swirling throughout the entire office.

Everyone else cowered in terror. What had happened to their dear, sweet, cheerful Mikan?

Natsume wasn't afraid—Natsume was _never_ afraid—but he stared at Mikan in shock, swatting away a demon that had been hovering about his head, earning himself a scarily sinister glare from Mikan. Where had his infallibly bright ray of sunshine gone? …God that sounded so cheesy.

He tried to ignore the pinch in his chest as he reminded himself that the Mikan he thought he knew was gone—and she was no longer his.

"Sakura-sama," Reika slipped past Kitsuneme and bowed hastily. "I-I'm sorry, b-but these p-people—"

Mikan sighed, shifting her glasses to rub at her temples, and the demons receded. "It's fine. Have you gotten their schedules?"

"H-hai, Sakura-sama." Reika bowed again and retreated to her desk.

"When is can we meet?"

"Um, a-actually—"

"Most of us are free right now," Natsume interjected coldly. "Why don't we just do it today?"

Some others murmured their assent, and Mikan narrowed her eyes and said icily, "I have no problem with that. However, the only thing we can do today is get your measurements and decide who's going to be wearing what." She suddenly smiled her professional, amiable smile, keeping her bloodthirsty thoughts to herself. "Is that alright with all of you?"

They nodded, still rather frightened.

"Then let's all proceed to a conference room." Reika and her assistants escorted everyone through a nearby doorway into a large, airy room with a long table, comfortable swivel chairs, and a wall entirely of glass. "Feel free to take any seat you wish."

Mikan had brought a briefcase with her, the kind one often sees on television dramas, filled with bombs or money. Mikan extracted a folder.

"These are some finished sketches," she said, "Please be careful with them." She handed the folder down one side of the table. Most of them fingered it nervously before gasping in delight. She took out several other folders and passed them down as well.

"As you can see, these are labeled according to their usage: evening gowns, casual wear, swimsuits, and etcetera. As we are currently near the end of the spring to summer transition period, we shall be doing summer shots.

"Within the next few days or so, I shall review your previous apparel and jobs, and decide on ensembles for each of you. If you have any preferences, or would like to either avoid of stay within one type of clothing, please let me know by the end of this meeting.

"If you have already seen all of the folders, you may stand and walk around each of these designs—" here Mikan pressed a button on a remote by her chair, and the wall opposite the glass smoothly slid apart to reveal a row of mannequin, fully outfitted "—and please do be careful, these are merely prototypes. If you have a desire to model a certain one of these, there are signs on the bottom of each stand with the name of each piece, and feel free to let me know. You may ask now or call my secretary later if you have any suggestions, opinions, or questions for me."

Mikan didn't let down her cool, expert façade, even after her long speech, as she gracefully slipped into her seat. There was no sigh of relief, no gulp of water—nothing to prove she was anything but a professional.

Some were indifferent, some were proud. However, Natsume's forehead wrinkled, and he frowned. He hated being treated merely as a client, like any other customer. He didn't want Mikan to be so detached, so distant.

He sighed as he flipped through the folders, refusing to reveal his amazement. He could feel a disappointed stare on his back, but he brushed it off.

Mikan observed, a polite smile still on her face. She kept her expression friendly and open, even as Sumire bounced up to her and squealed about how incredible she was and which dresses she preferred. Mikan continued to stay focused and appeared interested, taking careful notes even as Sumire gushed about her favorite dress. Other girls also confidently expressed their opinions, and poured out dreams about the perfect outfits.

The entire time, Mikan was an absolute professional. Reika knew that once she had clientele, Mikan could switch on the business attitude that had earned her praise and impressed customers. Once Mikan began treating these people she knew as patrons rather than acquaintances —Sakura-san denied a friendship with over half of them—she had had no problems whatsoever.

* * *

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door. Confused, Mikan called for them to come in. The door opened, and a young woman rushed in before most of them could take in her appearance.

She had wavy strawberry-blond hair, cerulean eyes, and a curvaceous figure, only enhanced by the tight tube top and miniskirt she was dressed in, as well as strappy stilettos. She was wearing heavy lip gloss and mascara, and was carrying a small designer purse. Basically the stereotypical image of a—

Never mind the previous sentence. That slipped out of the character's minds, Mikan in particular. After all, the first thing the newcomer had done was race into Natsume's arms.

After she had regained some sense, Mikan adopted an aridly removed tone. "Excuse me, but we're having a meeting here. If you could please come back some other time—"

The new girl retreated from the still very bewildered Natsume, only to switch to one side and leech—_latch_ onto his arm with her body pressed against his side. "Be quiet," she snapped, her eyes and face very obviously disgusted, "Can't you see my _Natsume-kun_ and I are having a _moment_ here?" She stroked Natsume's cheek with a bejeweled finger.

Natsume self-consciously glanced at Mikan to see her reaction to this intimacy before re-adopting his coldness. He couldn't help but feel slightly disappointed by her continued casualness.

"Have your little _moment_ some other time," Mikan said, completely serene, as if she dealt with this all the time. "We're currently working, and Hyuuga-san needs to do his job before he can be excused."

"Shut up, you ugly b****," the woman said nastily, "Don't act as if you're better than me. Don't you know who I am?"

The room immediately flared. The current aura in the room was far darker than Mikan's had been earlier, the barely controlled anger spreading like wildfire.

"This entire room is fire-proof," Mikan remarked tranquilly, before continuing, "I know who you are—"

"Wait, you're that stupid slut who went to that party with my Natsume-kun!" Luna gasped. "What did you do to force him to go with you?! Oh, my poor baby," she crooned.

The darkness in the room only increased, but the ex-Dangerous Abilities didn't notice. They were used to this darkness—besides, they were too busy trying to control their own.

Mikan didn't seem the least affected. "If you have a problem with me, I'll deal with it later. For now, please leave."

"Hmph," Luna leaned on the table, smirking as her top slipped a little lower. "Why should I listen to an ugly old woman like you?"

To everyone's surprise, Mikan merely sighed. She then undid her smooth bun and slid off her glasses. She then slid out of her jacket, revealing a tight black tank top, not nearly as exposing as Luna's outfit. She was still in her knee length navy skirt and black pumps, but she was definitely

_HOT,_ was the first thing Natsume thought. He then mentally beat himself up.

"Do you know who I am?" Mikan said, her eyes and voice never faltering.

Luna defensively took a step back, her eyes narrowed, biting her lip, with her manicured hands curled into tight fists.

"You would do well to remember my name," Mikan said, a confident smirk dancing around her lips. "Mikan Sakura, fashion designer. My status in this world is currently far above yours, despite your—what was it?—your 'willingness to do anything, literally anything.' Now, don't be calling people ugly like that, little girl. You could end up in a very, very bad situation."

"You—Ugh. whatever." Completely humiliated, Luna made another disgusted face and stomped angrily from the room.

There was an awkward silence as Mikan slipped her jacket and glasses back on, and quickly redid her hair into a loose ponytail.

"Borrowing my insult?" Natsume finally commented, unable to stand the tension.

Mikan looked up, completely isolated again. "I'm sorry, what was that Hyuuga-san?"

There was no way she could have not heard him—the room had been dead quiet when he'd spoken.

"…Nothing."

"Um, okay." Mikan didn't seem bothered by his comment at all as she turned back to the rest of them and bowed deeply. "I am extremely sorry for the interruption. I apologize for any trouble our uninvited guest may have caused. Please continue as if there had been no intrusion."

And just like that, people began to move again, although with some uneasiness.

Everyone had now noticed, even if only at a sub-subconscious level.

Their happy little Mikan hadn't grown up—she had vanished.

…………………………………………

Mikan stayed up late that night sketching, trying to rid herself of the day's memories. In fact, that's how she first came upon the idea of becoming a designer.

"_What are you doing, Aima?" Rena smiled as she walked through the door, coming home late as always from her part-time job. "You shouldn't be up, it's already two."_

_Mikan didn't reply, but continued to sketch random people she had seen on the street that day, particularly focused on their clothing._

"_You're really good at drawing," Rena remarked, watching Mikan's hand make soft strokes across the page. Mikan hadn't even noticed when Rena had sat on the bed next to her. "You could become a designer, you know."_

_Mikan stopped, and looked up. "But I don't sew," she said quietly._

_Rena laughed softly. "I can teach you that."_

"_But…" Mikan bit her lip, "I only draw for fun."_

_Rena cocked her head. "For fun?"_

"_Well… it- it takes my mind off…. things…" Mikan whimpered._

_Rena's smile faded. "Look through your sketchbook again tomorrow, Aima," she whispered. "For now, get some sleep." She gently extracted the notebook from Mikan's hands and stood up without a sound. She silently placed the book on the desk, and smiled, smaller this time. She whispered, "Night, Aima," and flicked the switch._

_Later that night, Mikan woke up. She couldn't sleep, so she decided to look at her sketchbook, as Rena had told her. She glanced over at the lump on the other bed, and cautiously hoisted herself out of bed, pausing anxiously each time the mattress creaked. She tiptoed over to the desk, grabbing her book and a flashlight before heading back to the warm blankets. The bed creaked loudly as she settled back into the sheets._

_She slipped underneath the covers, creating a hollow before turning the flashlight on and slowly opening the book._

_The first page was of a boy with glasses, holding onto someone's hand. He was smiling brightly, his cheeks flushed, wearing a uniform and carrying a bookbag. He looked so innocent and naïve for a boy, different from most other boys his age._

_She flipped the page. The next drawing was of a tween girl, seen through the window of the nearby bakery. She was also smiling happily, in the process of setting the sample cakes in the window. She had flour on her face, her curly hair was tied back, and she was wearing a simple dress with a dirtied apron. Mikan had been taken by her happiness when she perfected the display._

_She flipped the page. A little boy, sitting alone at the playground, was looking directly at her, his eyes too cold for his age. He was very cute, but she had drawn his bench in detail, while the other children so obviously shunning him were sketched out vaguely. She remembered his isolation had caused her to constantly look over at him until he disappeared._

_Flip. A young woman with dark, straight, long hair, captured in profile, determinately looking up at a tall building, carrying a case. Mikan knew the building was a prestigious scientific institution._

_Flip. A street scene of two teen boys with exceptionally spiky hair and a girl with short, curly dark hair, where the boys were laughing and running away while the girl chased after them, swinging her purse and shouting violently._

_Flip. A respected local vet, smiling and petting a little boy's rabbit right outside his office door. _

_Flip. Two little girls at the playground, one emotionlessly sitting on the swing, while the other cheerfully pushed her friend. She recalled how they had been picked up by one person._

_Flip. A teenage boy she had once watched street dance. She remembered he was amazingly agile, and by the time he finished his routine he had gathered quite a crowd. His physique in the drawing was tall and muscular, and she had even shaded the creases in his ripped t-shirt and baggy jeans, and drawn in the emblem on the cap and the little sweat drops. She remember how he had spotted her while he was drinking water, and how he had grinned at her mischievously, causing her to push her way out and stomp back home._

_Flip. Flip. Flip. Each drawing was somehow connected to her previous life. A lonely girl looking wistfully at a group of friends in front of her, a far too happy young man pouncing on another very irritated young man, a girl doing a very strange dance and ignoring all the surrounding stares… every page had a relation to something from the Academy._

_Mikan stopped, the blanket slipping off as she wondered how Rena knew. She absently flashed the light at Rena's bed, but hastily switched it off. She paused._

_The lump on Rena's bed was just a pillow._

Mikan sighed. Drawing relieved her of her memories, as long as she didn't look back at them.

She put down the sketchbook and turned the light off. _I should have noticed earlier what Rena had been doing,_ she thought bitterly.

"Goodnight…" she whispered softly to herself.

As she drifted away, she thought she heard a gentle breeze murmur, "Night, Aima."

------------

_I used to think my life was perfect._

_Notice the past tense.

* * *

_

Review!


	9. Chapter 9

Yay! I finally finished this!

Designing stuff is HARD. Especially since I just got back from freezing Tahoe where everyone is basically bundled up like penguins. Yeah, total fashion center, right?

Thank you to Google Images.

I apologize that I can't write a message for you guys, but my butt hurts from falling so much, my entire body is sore from falling too much, and I'm super tired from having to get up too much. I know, I know: no excuses, right? ...well, too bad.

Thanks to:

greentulip

JuSt To RaNdOm

Sakura Breeze

-Tribal Addict-

Najika Tsubasa-chan

bunnyjumps

moonacre99

ThatGirl96

You guys are awesome! Virtual cookie for you! If you don't like cookies...

What is wrong with you? No offense.

I don't own Gakuen Alice. Why do you think it's called **_dis_**claimer? XP

**

* * *

Never Again**

**Chapter 9**

The date for the first photo shoot had finally been set, after much scheduling conflict.

Everyone arrived around the same time, cordially escorted by her secretary to another level in the humongous complex. According to Reika-san, the upper third or so of the building was used for photo shoots, unlike other companies that went to studios. Mikan Sakura wanted things done right, so she did them herself. Apparently, there was even an indoor garden somewhere and a swimming pool on the roof.

Mikan Sakura hired the best, and only the best. Aoi was going to be one of the make-up artists, and Misaki would be working as a hair stylist as well. Anna had offered to provide refreshments for everyone, and the intoxicating scents wafting out of the boxes on a nearby row of tables were enough motivation for any normal person.

The floor they had all gathered in was basically a hallway, running horizontally once one stepped out of the elevator area. The hallway was very, very long, and also wide enough to fit two opposite conveyor-belt like mechanism, which could be used to transport oneself to a far end, along with walking space. There were other, smaller halls branching perpendicularly from the large one, each with a sign next to it.

The group entered the first hallway, with a plaque stating

SUITE 1

DRESSING ROOMS 1-99

**Reserved for **Mikan Sakura, President

Underneath, it listed the names of all of the models in alphabetical order. Mikan handed each model a small ID card, clipped to a slip of paper. "Each room has its own keypad and code. While you are working for this company, I assure you that these rooms will belong to you only, and anything you leave will not be touched. No one will clean your room unless you have personally requested it. You may come in at any time to retrieve an item from your room, but you will be required to show your ID. If you are not involved in a shoot, you will not be allowed on set. Please respect other models."

"Your rooms should have all the clothing you will be wearing, today and in the future. If you stain or defile any piece, you will have to pay for it. You may not take any piece of clothing outside of these floors. There are also cover-ups and towels inside if you need them." Mikan bowed. "Go ahead and find your room."

Coincidentally, Natsume and Ruka were next to each other, and Hotaru was across the one on the other side of Natsume. As the others found their own room and grinned happily—the rooms had their own full-length mirrow, a bathroom, a comfortable couch, a large table, bean bag chairs, and some of Anna's goods, and a walk-in closet—Natsume noticed that there was no one across from him.

Mikan walked by, calling out, "I forgot to mention, if you are in, please indicate so by sliding your ID through the little black mechanism by the door." She continued, "Inside each room is a list with your names, call times, and clothing number. Please be on set at least fifteen minutes before your call time, fully dressed, so that we may have extra time in case of any problems. Hair and makeup will be done next to the set. Once you are completely ready, try not to move around too much."

Natsume bit his lip, wanting to talk to her, but afraid of a cold, distanced reaction. On the inside, he laughed rather painfully. When had he become so weak?

He opened his mouth to comment—on what, he wasn't sure—but suddenly realized that she was already gone.

* * *

Models like Sumire were accustomed to last minute fix-ups, dressing problems, whiny new models, and other problems. But Sumire had never worked for Mikan Sakura.

She walked carefully onto the floor indicated by the chart. She stopped short, astounded.

There were many sets, the closest of which had plain white backgrounds, cameras, and lighting all already set up. Others could be seen farther off with larger area and more equipment. Mikan herself was flitting around to different hairstylists and makeup artists, who were nodding as they worked on her friends' looks. Misaki and Aoi were not among the group, as they would be required to model for the current shoot.

Mikan's company would release an entire magazine dedicated to her new modeling group, with several different new lines within. There would be one evening gown line, one casual wear line, one teen/youth line, and one swimwear line for women, and one casual wear and one teen/youth line for men. Things from other Sakura lines would be advertised as well, but not as prominently, and a new perfume would get a spread. Any fashion news would obviously make its way into its pages as well.

At the moment, they were doing a few formal wear shots, Mikan's specialty. Yura was dressed in a beautiful strapless black dress with a gold waistband and elegant gold jewelry, and her hair was curled into a low chignon on the side of her head. Wakako was wearing a light green halter with bangles on her wrists and ears, and her hair was gathered in a side ponytail. Nobara was dressed in shimmering icy blue and purple strapless silk with crystals sprinkled around the dipping neckline and diamond jewelry, and her hair was left down, waving loosely about her shoulders. Yuri was wearing (to her delight) a halter dress of silver satin, falling in waves down her lower body, with navy ribbons around her neck and wrists, and hair sophisticatedly pinned up on top of her head. Shizune was dressed in a lavender silk with thin straps and complex embroidery climbing up one leg, black bands around her wrists and neck, and hair that was left down, but styled so waved over her shoulder and around one side.

Sumire was wearing a dress similar to Mikan's at the party. It was deep forest green silk, with multiple thin straps on either side that weaved together in the back. There was a thin, smooth gold chain wound a few times around her hips, cinched together on one side and hanging loosely on the other. It hugged her curves delightfully until about mid-thigh, where is gently flowed out towards the floor. The chain was complemented with a similar necklace, though only wound once, with tiny emeralds wound in, and matching dangling earrings. Her hair was pulled up in a bun with a few curly strands dropping to her shoulders on either side, its natural green highlights notable in the rich black. Small white flowers protruded from the side of her bun. Her lips were painted with a light, shiny pink, and her eyes were greatly emphasized with dark eyeliner and mascara. She wore very little blush.

Nonoko was waiting for her, looking stunning in her royal blue one shoulder satin. It was like a strapless dress, but one shoulder was covered, and the cloth cinched together when it met the corner of the body. On the back, the cloth crossed over to the opposite corner. The neckline was sprinkled with tiny silver beads that gradually faded as one's eyes traveled down. A thin, glittering silver thread rested on her hips around her waist, with a very sheer white fabric falling on one side, gradually narrowing into a curved point about mid-calf. The satin clutched at her figure until her hips, where it hung in straight, gentle folds just above the ground. Her necklace was a delicate sliver of a chain, a round, dark sapphire resting in a circlet of silver in the center. Her earrings were dots, the same as the pendant. Her hair was brushed out straight, with the sides pulled together in the back and intricately braided with silver threads woven in. Her makeup was similar to Sumire's.

Anna was standing beside Nonoko, her dress a direct contrast. It was light pink satin, strapless, tightly stretching across her bodice until just below her hips. It stretched out straight all around until it reached the floor, creating a circle with about a two foot radius. The satin was covered with a thin, sheer material, slightly lighter and not quite matching up. A line around the hips, slightly tilted, produced a skirt above the original dress, slanted more heavily the same way as the line, but curved around and ruffled like a rose petal. She was the only one wearing elbow-length white gloves. Her necklace was a ring of tiny pearls, and her earrings were dot pearls as well. Her hair was all braided and twisted into a bun at the back of her head, and pure white daisies circled it. Her lips were a little darker than Nonoko's, but she wore less eye makeup and had heavier blush.

Aoi was advising Mikan with makeup, already dressed in a white silk halter dress that opened like a corset in the front to expose lovely crimson satin underneath. Oppositely, the bottom stretched outwards similar to Anna's dress. The white silk opened loosely above in an upside down curve, gently ruffling towards the ground. The white directly next to the crimson was edged with white lace, and the top was held by crisscrossing white ribbons. Thin white ribbons pulled the sides on the dress up, and crossed on her collarbones to connect around her neck. Her necklace was a slender silver rope with a brilliant-cut ruby glittering in the center, and her bracelets and earrings were thin silver hoops. Her hair was cut short and straight, curving slightly inwards near her chin. Her lips were painted crimson, and her eye makeup was lighter than Nonoko's and Sumire's to make her younger. She also wore more blush.

Misaki's dress was a darker pink than Anna's, with a neckline that dipped into a lower point and edged with black silk, and loosely hanging shoulders that connected to the corner and hung from her shoulders to halfway down her upper arms, with slits on the outside of the arm and black ribbons cinching the tops and sides together. A black ribbon was around her empire line, winding down tightly until just above her hips and back up again to crisscross snugly over her stomach area. Below the lowest ribbon line, the silk gushed freely, trailing in the back. Her hair was straight and layered to the bottom of her shoulder blades, and she had gotten black highlights. Her neck and wrists were wrapped in black ribbon as well. She wore heavy eye makeup, and her lips were the same shade as her dress.

Hotaru's dress was deep violet velvet, with a simple halter that dropped in a low point in the back. In front, the cloth went directly from the halter to a low neckline that ended in a point at the center of the empire line. The stomach area was tightly ruffled from the empire line to the top of the hips, cinching together with a vertical silver ornament so that the ruffled made a small upside down V. Around the knees, an echoing line produced ruffles similar to Aoi's, but hanging straight down. The neckline and empire line were edged with crystals. Her hair was flowing about her shoulders, but the hairstylist had somehow managed to weave in little silver beads. Her wrists and neck had black ribbons studded with crystals, and her earrings were diamond dots. Her eye makeup was dark, and her lips were dark magenta.

Sumire barely had time to take in her friends' stunning appearances before she was whisked away by a man in a tuxedo. All of the male models were dressed in tuxes, with ties that matched a girl's dress. Koko, who was still holding her waist, had a deep green tie with thin gold stripes. Yuu was showing Nonoko his navy tie, Kitsuneme was holding his light pink one with disgust, Ruka was wondering why he and Hayate both had violet ones, Megane was trying to hide his bright pink tie from Tsubasa who had the same, Subaru and Sakurano were comparing their lavender ties, Rui was dancing around with his ice blue one, Mochu was looking for a light green dress, Kaname was fingering his silver tie, Youichi was turning nearly as red as the red on his red and white tie, and Natsume and Tono were praying a girl with a crimson dress would appear. And for those of you who noticed that there was no black tie—Yura had requested that she not have a partner because of her very possessive boyfriend who was not part of the group.

"Where's Mikan?" Sumire asked Koko.

Koko seemed rather preoccupied with keeping her away from… well, all other males on set. His eyes seemed darker than usual. "What was that?"

Sumire stopped, refusing to move any further. "Quit it, you idiot. These guys aren't going to steal me away or anything," she snapped, rolling her eyes.

Koko growled softly—extremely unusual for him—and slumped into a nearby chair, his head gingerly held in his hands. "I kind of understand Natsume now," he muttered. "When your girl looks frickin' hot, you can't help feeling insecure."

Sumire narrowed her eyes. "Are you implying that Mikan normally looks hotter than me? 'Cause Natsume-kun's pretty much always like this."

Koko used one eye to glare at her. "Of course not, but I'm not as bad as Natsume. He's always kind of—"

"I can hear you," Natsume drawled as he strolled over. "Where's Polka-dots?"

"Don't you think you're getting a little old for that name?" Sumire sighed, deciding that drooling over Natsume would NOT be good for Koko's sanity.

Koko was already glaring at Natsume, protectively placing one hand on Sumire's waist.

Natsume ignored him, and repeated, "Where's Po—"

He was cut off by loud shrieks and squeals from the entrance. They all turned, to see Mikan struggling through the crowd of girls. All of their jaws dropped.

Mikan was wearing beautifully deep, crimson satin. It was strapless, cinched together at the empire line with a black ribbon. Sheer black fabric was cinched with the satin on her bust, and the dressed deliciously hugged her figure until it began to fall in folds around her hips, and continued to follow her legs' shape down to the floor. Below the empire line, black lace hung down, ending about half a foot above the floor. The bottom of the dress flowed outwards near the floor, trailing behind her. The border was a white ribbon, a thick black band, and then white lace at the edge. Separate crimson sleeves that started below the shoulder and ended at the wrist were edged at the bottom in the same way, but with more white lace extending across the hands. A black band crossed the tops of the sleeves and the neckline. Her neck had a thick black ribbon as well, and her ears were studded with ruby tears. Her hair was twisted into a thick bun on the side of the base of her scalp, with a net studded with rubies. Her lips were crimson, and her eye makeup was heavy, with tiny crimson swirling designs on the sides of her eyes.

Sumire casually stepped on Koko's foot with her stilettos.

"YOW!" he screeched. "What the *beep* was that for?!"

She smiled sweetly at him. "To wake you up from staring at another woman."

He bitterly growled again in reply.

Sumire waltzed away.

"Natsume, Mikan looks really—" Koko froze when he saw Natsume's face. "Oh, crap." _Sumire, you idiot!_

----

"Why the hell are _you_ all dressed up?" Natsume snarled at Mikan.

She looked at him coldly. "I'm a model as well."

"But you—"

"Mikan-chan!" Tono reached out to hug her, but she held his face at arms' length.

"Don't mess up the dress."

"You look like a vampire," Natsume spat angrily.

She ignored him.

"You can't even design formal clothing for males?"

She walked away, but he followed.

"I can't believe you've made it this far with your cra—"

"Let's get started!" Everyone hastily resumed their work as Mikan clacked away from a _very_ irritated Natsume. "Everyone, we'll be starting at Set 28. Please follow me. Once we finish the entire group shots, we'll do the girls together, and then into color groups. Finally, the girls will do individual shots. We will probably only get to start the girls together today. Please cooperate with us so that we can finish quickly."

* * *

After a while of tiring but fun posing, everyone finally relaxed. They had managed to finish the girls' shots together, and tomorrow they would be doing the color groups.

"Thank you everyone!" Mikan smiled. "We got quite a bit done today. Thank you for your cooperation. Please be sure to properly stow your outfits."

After he had finished changing, Natsume leaned on his door, waiting for Ruka to come out. Suddenly, Mikan came out of the door across from him. He could only gape in astonishment, as she was dressed in a casual tank top and jeans.

"Hello, Hyuuga-san," she nodded, dropping her phone into her purse. She turned to lock the door.

Suddenly frustrated by her detachment, he continued his earlier rant. "Your designs are a lot worse than I thought."

She barely stiffened.

"I can't believe you've made it this far with those weird designs."

She turned, jaw clenched, eyes icily hard.

"I'm starting to think those articles about you sleeping with executives might be true," he smirked. "You know, I have connections as well, and I can't be worse than what's-his-face—"

SLAP.

BANG.

"I hate you."

* * *

Review!

Suggestions for this story or new ones are welcomed.

BTW, I added Yura's boyfriend after I realized that I hadn't given her a pair, and I was too lazy to switch a guy over. =1


	10. Chapter 10

Yawn.

Thanks to:

ThatGirl96-I looked it up, and it is pretty similar... but I was using a different source. I'm kinda obsessed with dark stuff right now.

JuSt To RaNdOm-0==p ...I just typed that while searching for the backspace button, and I'm too lazy to keep looking. Anyway... this is ur update!

bunnyjumps- You are the only person who mentioned Rena this time. Thank you.

fear-One of the many who enjoyed the Mikan slapping Natsume scene, including the above. I wanted it to be sadder. *Pouts*

Sakura Breeze-Someone with some sympathy! Finally!

kiers-...You're that happy Natsume was slapped? ...*scoots away* Well, technically, reading back... never mind.

greentulip-Sorry. My describing skills aren't the best. Smileys, smileys, and more smileys!

-Tribal Addict--Yay! You understood my descriptions! You are incredible! (Seriously, I couldn't when I reread it.)

iDolly-You seem neutral. Do you like that she slapped him or do you feel sad. Hm? HM?

You guys make me so happy! I smile like an idiot whenever I read your reviews!

...Then again, I always smile like an idiot. Pretend you didn't hear that.

But really, you're all totally awesome. If you didn't review, I would die! ...No I wouldn't, but I would stop writing and go into depression. Probably.

...

I don't own Gakuen Alice.

Sorry, this isn't my best work. Oh well. Enjoy... or not.

I just realized that there is literally no dialogue in this. ...Hehe?

**

* * *

Never Again**

**Chapter 10**

Natsume wanted to punch—no, he wanted to _kill_ someone. In particular, himself. But we can't have another injury on that incredible face, can we? So he didn't.

Instead, he had to be content with bundling himself under the covers and compressing his pillow around his head as if he could squeeze out the torturing memories. But he could still see, as vividly as an HD video that was stuck on replay, the events from earlier.

After the slap, it was almost as if his senses had been magnified hundredfold. He saw the tense quivering running throughout her entire body, the redness of her right hand despite how her knuckles had whitened, the trembling lips that were pressed together so hard they had turned white as well, the unusually hard set of her delicate jaw, the wrinkles around her eyes as she scrunched her face up—whether in anger or a desperation not to cry, he didn't know. Neither prospect was inviting.

He hadn't had enough courage—or stupidity—to even glance at her eyes. He was afraid, yes. Afraid enough that he was perfectly capable of admitting it to himself. He thought he was used to pain, used to the beatings, the cuts, the blood. He hadn't known how naïve he was until she found him with some other girl he didn't even know the name of for the—he had stopped counting a long time ago.

Her eyes then, just like every other time, had reawakened every past wound and multiplied it, rendering him unable to breath for several minutes while whatever-her-name-was fled. Only, that time it was so much worse.

It might have been because a few weeks ago had been her fifteenth birthday, and he hadn't treated her any better than before. If anything, he treated her worse. He had been planning to give her a present later, a beautiful necklace of gold, set with rubies, enchanted with powerful Alices, like Healing and other protective charms. He had saved his huge allowance for a few months to buy it.

He was going to visit her that night to give it to her, but was detained on the way by some girl who pulled him into a corner. She was good, he had to admit. And he was always unsatisfied when Mikan pulled away after only a little bit of kissing. Did she not want him like he wanted her?

But it seemed she had had some business in that hallway, and didn't realize it was him when she came to investigate the strange noises. He hadn't noticed until he heard the familiar gasp, turned, and caught a glimpse of brown hair in the scarce light. He had left after that, sick to his stomach with himself.

Or maybe she was particularly upset because of his tendency to treat her indifferently. More than half of their dialogue was made up of him not responding or saying he didn't care. He didn't exactly make her feel exceptionally loved most of the time…

His goal had been to make her react, like she had before. So when she did, why did it hurt so much?

He used to think she would forgive him no matter what he did. He wasn't worried when she shunned him, sometimes refusing to come out of her room for days. It had happened enough that he knew she would come out eventually.

So that last time, he wasn't worried in the least. Even when she didn't appear for weeks, and the others were going crazy. Even when Narumi became a loveless robot. Even when Imai started refusing patrons. Even when Ruka stopped visiting the barn, Yuu's grades dropped, Sumire didn't swoon over them at all, Anna's cakes were more ash than cake, Nonoko caused an explosion that destroyed her lab, Koko and Kitsuneme's grins evaporated, Nobara was found near death in the DA room, Tono shunned women, Misaki didn't punch anyone nor deny being a couple, the shadow freak slept in a tree all day every day, Kaname's dolls started living in the hospital… the list went on and on.

He knew she would eventually come out. He thought everyone else knew too, which was why they weren't breaking down her door. Never had he dreamed that she had somehow everything-proofed her door, her window, and the vents so that nothing but air could get through. Everyone running at it together full-speed couldn't even shake it. Nonoko couldn't blow it up, and even Imai couldn't get through. He finally relented to try burning it down, shaking his head at their foolishness.

He never expected it to crumble as soon as the fire touched it.

He also never expected the room to be empty; no clothes, no books, no Mikan. Instead, it was accumulating dust.

He didn't want to remember how he had reacted: shock, and anger. Pain was only in the background. It was mostly anger that she had abandoned him without a word.

Alcohol had been a very good friend for eight years. It still was.

--

Mikan was drawing.

She didn't want to recall all the times Natsume had hurt her—in fact, she couldn't. There were too many. Too many times where she found him with another girl, too many times where he wanted her to break off contact with all other males (including Yuu), too many times where he _just didn't care._

She was a toy. She knew that. But she had hoped that she had become independent, no longer under his spell.

She was wrong.

He could still poke at her wall and make it crumble to ash like it was just too easy. He must have thought she was an easy girl since she fell so quickly like everyone else. Falling hurts a lot. The shorter the fall, the less the impact, the less broken one is at the end. He had pushed her off a cliff and now she was a mass of blood and bone, confusion and pain, still looking up at his silhouette with the smirking sun behind him. Or was he the sun?

_Sometimes, one's wounds can be stitched together, only to tumble away again. The seams break. More injuries are added. Eventually, if one is unlucky, one will not be able to recover. The ER can't save everyone. One will fall down so far, one will be irretrievable, no long able to fall, but no longer able to be saved._

_While one is falling, one will hit rocks along the way, get snagged in protruding roots and such. Sometimes, these previous warnings lessen the fall at the end, almost as if one can predict and guard against pain. _

_Willingly jumping over is suicide. Sometimes there is a barrier, a railing, to stop one from suicide. Other times, the extra force causes even more pain. _

_Sometimes, one can grab the murderer as one falls, and both will be broken. Both will live on that different level together, until someone else pushes one off another bluff. The one left behind will be smashed against the wall by the new killer._

Before she had gone to look for Natsume that final time, she had visited Hotaru. Hotaru had shunned her like usual, but for some reason she had felt the pain so much more keenly than usual. At that moment, she had begun to build the wall. She didn't dare cry.

She wanted to vent to her other friends. They were all busy with something or another. The wall grew thicker. She didn't dare cry.

Finally, she succumbed to searching for Natsume. He listened, if nothing else. Then she found him. She didn't know what she felt at that moment. It was a blur. She remembered how she could feel the newly built wall start to crumble before she frantically, desperately stacked up more bricks.

She hadn't been careful, hadn't made sure the wall was secure. If she had taken the time, she might have been able to build a wall by the cliff as well, and make sure all her armor was in good condition, and make sure both walls were sealed.

She needed some alcohol.

--

She was here. Why was she here?

That dress was really revealing.

Was she upset about earlier? Of course she was. He was an idiot.

She had an amazing body.

Imai and Ruka didn't go after he that time, only banged opened the door and stared. Why didn't they chase her?

So many guys were around her.

Maybe they were busy. After all, one was firing her cannon and one was shouting at him. Were those cuss words he heard mixed in?

She was dancing.

Had she always been so…mesmerizing?

--

She wanted to forget. So she danced.

She swayed her hips. She clapped and stomped to the beat.

Her heart was pounding with the drum. She could barely breathe. The air felt so heavy, so humid. Sweat and perfume mingled so naturally.

She didn't bother to take in the faces around her, didn't care enough to register the eager hunger, the excited touches. She only noticed when a particularly good dancer joined her from nowhere.

Her vision was blurry. The alcohol, probably. It seemed like the world was distorting. She couldn't focus. She didn't want to. She didn't want to be dropped back through all her clouds and crash on reality. She didn't want the innocent Mikan or the sensible Mikan to come out. They would stop her from dancing with this stranger, this beautiful creature with dark hair and flashing eyes—

–so familiar. Had she seen him (she hoped it was a him) before? …why did she care? She was there to _stop_ thinking.

So she continued to move against him and wished the night wouldn't end, wished she were light enough to float forever.

--

He tried to keep himself from losing control, he really did. That's what he kept insisting.

So why was he dragging her down a side hallway, with her giggling uncontrollably?

It was her fault for deciding to start _grinding—_

The memory caused him to suddenly slam her against the wall, almost desperate with his touches, knowing she would never allow this again. Where had his control gone?

Where had _her_ control gone? The noises she was generating were driving him insane. While they had been dating, she had never permitted things to go this far, and she had certainly not given away any hint of pleasure.

In fact, after she had confessed, after he had indifferently accepted, it seemed like they had grown farther apart. Sure, she had become bolder in approaching him, but with no basis—he continued to tease and bully her just as much as before. Sure, she didn't scream pervert whenever they kissed, but she would if he tried to go further.

They barely had romantic moments. Natsume had started to abandon the Sakura tree. It reminded him of her, so he had stayed there, knowing she would come, hoping for that brief contact. Once they saw more and more of each other, he had the real thing. He no longer needed the tree.

She continued to go there. She was an idealist. She loved the memories of their meetings, enjoyed reminiscing about their arguments. At least until she realized she would never meet him there again. Until she realized that he was probably off with some other girl.

He couldn't help it. Every time she left him hanging, every time she refused to release a sign of happiness at their intimacy, he needed to vent. He was easy prey for the more attractive fan girls. And she was always there at the wrong time—or the right time?—to catch him in the act.

In the minutes it took him to recover from her look and become halfway decent enough to chase after her, she always managed to find some other guy friend to comfort her while she was crying. Usually Tsubasa. Natsume had no problem burning them… before she glared at him with teary, disgusted eyes, and he would wonder what the hell his problem was and debate on whether or not he was a masochist.

Eventually, he would make it up to her somehow. He didn't want to believe that she was merely postponing the inevitable breakdown, just like he was temporarily recovering with those pills she hated so much. He didn't want to recognize that she was far too trusting, so easily accepting the bare minimum of an implied apology, just to try to revive their connection.

He had never even said those three words that were so important to girls like her. It might have slipped out a few times or more to other girls in the heat of the moment, but never to her. It had been her who confessed first, and he had only said, "Hn. Whatever."

And he had prided himself on his intelligence, his sharp senses, his control. He scoffed at himself.

He knew that if he went too far that night, she would never even acknowledge his existence afterwards. He wasn't enough of an idiot to let that happen. He didn't want to think of the possibility that she would run before he could explain, or that she might not believe him.

He paid for a room. Maybe this way, she would forgive him. Even just a little.

Just a little would be enough. He no longer had the right to hope for anything more.

* * *

Whee! This is for those of you who wanted more "moments!" Sorry if they aren't good though. I'm uncomfortable writing explicitness, and I don't exactly know much. Come on, I'm-- not going to reveal my age online. But I don't know how to write this!

...So was it okay? Review! I need a loooot of help to improve my moments. ...That sounded weird, didn't it.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter eleven! Wow, in the beginning i was expecting to be done in like, five or something...

Anyway, thanks to all my reviewer! That was supposed to have an s!

XxXmystic12XxX - I'm glad you weren't confused. I was afraid it was a little nonsensical, seeing as I'm not exactly the most coherent person on the planet.

JuSt To RaNdOm - high 5! ^.^ You're awesome too, just for reviewing so many times! .

greentulip - (were you on a sugar high...? a lot of laughing...) I'm not really a fashion geek either. I ran out of ideas and pieces together random clothes I've seen before.

kiers - I'm sorry if you couldn't understand it. I was trying to mix the two time zones, kinda like they were reflecting on the past (retrospect), but maybe I mixed it too much.

bunnyjumps - At the bar, basically, she was getting drunk to forget him, she looked good, there were pervs around her, she started dancing, natsume started dancing, and then they... you know...

Sakura Breeze - Yay! I love it too! Kind of! Okay maybe not! But yay! (I do love my work... to a certain extent.)

keraii - wait, it's "so-so" as in okay, or "so--so" as in you can't find the right word? Hm? O.o? And sorry about the confusion... it seems a lot of people didn't get it. Sigh.

-Tribal Addict- - I don't think she knows who was dancing with her; she was DRUNK. Like, big-time. And my Mikan is tripolar, so hmph! And I have read the Twilight series before it was popular (the first three) and... I don't like Edward anymore. Don't kill me peeps.

ThatGirl96 - My source? ...Um, actually... Health class. ...I know, right? Bleh. And other YA books like Twilight, etc. I have some idea, even though I haven't had "moments," romantic or hormonal. ...That sounded _so_ wrong.

sakurapetal - Thanks so much!

Okay, before we begin, I have a few comments. I don't wanna put this at the end so you can scroll back up here when your done or read it now.

1. Cerise Magique was really random. You can tell me if you hates it or loves it, but don't kill me if you hates it, mmkay?

2. I got Kirakira by typing random words in a eng-jap translation website. I don't know any japanese.

3. Raiden Yukimura was also random. You can look it up (or if you know what it means, good for you) but there's no deep hidden meaning in his name. I think.

4. I really like the word random.

5. *read this at the end: Don't get your hopes up.

...

PeaCe!

**

* * *

Never Again**

**Chapter 11**

"AHHHH!"

He groggily blinked his eyes open.

"WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED?!?"

He had never been so happy to hear her screaming at him, despite the reason for her shrieks—

—oh crap, he had to explain to her before—

"WHAT DID YOU DO YOU P—mmph!" He quickly pushed her down and stuffed a pillow in her face.

"Shut up!" he said furiously. "The entire place will hear you!"

She pulled and grabbed at the pillow, and managed to get it far enough down so that she could glare at him darkly. She couldn't get it farther; despite all the strength she had acquired after the school discovered her second Alice, he was still a boy, and she was still a girl. As much as she—and the authoress—hate to admit it, boys _are_ naturally stronger than girls…usually.

And because he was still a boy and she was still a girl, Natsume couldn't quite stop the unusual hotness spreading throughout his entire body when she gripped his wrists in her small hands and her eyes probed deeply into his.

And then he realized that the hotness might actually be because of the fire she had lit on his behind.

"What the hell—?!" he yelled. It took him another few seconds of hopping around that he realized he could extinguish the fire. He panted, "What—was—_that_—for?"

She looked at him coolly, already propped up against the headboard. "Wow, I never thought the Kuro Neko could become so stupid in just eight years," she said, looking slightly upwards as if she were thinking, with one finger mockingly pressed against her cheek. She continued in the same babying tone, "Oh right, he already was."

He gritted his teeth. "Look, I didn't do anything, okay?"

She narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "Uh huh, sure," she said sarcastically.

"Really, I didn't. Last night, I saw you here, drunk. I just brought you here to save you from a _real_ pervert," he said, as earnest as Natsume Hyuuga could get.

She bit her lip. "You didn't do _anything_?"

"Nothing."

"…Promise?"

He sighed. "I swear I didn't touch you inappropriately after I carried you up here."

"What about before?"

She was annoyingly sharp today. "I had to carry you up, didn't I? I don't know if you count that as inappropriate."

She closed her eyes and leaned back. "My head hurts."

He opened a drawer and took out the familiar pills, then headed to the bathroom to get a cup of water. When he returned, he handed both to her. "Here. You have a hangover. I'm not surprised, after all that vodka and whatever other stuff you had last night. You were dancing like a madwoman."

She swallowed the pills. "Yeah," she assented rather absently. Then, "Holy— What day is it today?!"

"Um, May—"

"Not the date, you imbecile! The day!" she half-screeched.

"Um, Sunday?

"What time is it?!"

"The clock's right there you know—"

"What TIME IS IT?!" Her voice made a dramatic crescendo.

"8:57, why?!"

"Gah!" She let out a string of curse words that somewhat frightened him in their quantity and variety. She placed a hand to her forehead in nervous habit, and scrambled out of bed, only to lose her balance and fall on the ground. Natsume, being on the other side, instinctively stretched out to catch her, but missed by about five feet. He could only watch as she tumbled over, eyes wide, cheeks flushed from panic. He froze for a millisecond after he heard the loud thud on the other side. Then he raced around to help her up.

But she was already in the process of dragging herself to her feet, and when he offered a hand, she glared at him.

Shocked, he let his hand fall as she turned and scurried to the bathroom. He hadn't been shocked by the glare; it was a natural occurrence nowadays. He had frozen at the intense pain that had flashed in her expression after the glare and before the thick curtain of hair swung down to hide her face. He knew that expression well, but not on _her_ features. He was familiar with it because of the many times it had appeared on his own face when he was still new at the Academy.

He knew the feeling—being pushed into a cruel world as a bird that cannot yet fly, being stuck in a maze where you just can't turn around. Every choice determines fate. Every corner brings challenges, and pain. Every path has pebbles, stones, boulders, steep barriers. Many have experienced this feeling, actually.

But not so many know the pain of Natsume and Mikan—trapped in this world with no one there to help you.

Completely alone.

"Sakura-sama! Where are you?" the little earphone crackled. "I couldn't reach you for the past hour."

"I'm so sorry, Reika!" Mikan swerved into the company's parking lot. "I overslept."

"It's okay for now, they aren't here yet. The meeting doesn't start until 9:30, and it's almost 9:15. Where are you now?"

"In the elevator."

"That's fine. I have your papers all ready to sign. Are you prepared for the negotiations?"

"Of course, I got everything together a week ago."

"Oh, there's something else—"

"Tell me when I get there. I'm in the hallway now." Mikan turned off the phone, swiftly clicking to her office.

…Yes, she could have teleported, but Alices are supposed to be low-key, remember? Now hush.

"Sakura-sama, you're here!" Reika said in open relief.

Mikan quickly bowed. "I'm extremely sorry for my tardiness."

The secretary waved her apology off. "No harm done. Here are the contracts and other papers you might need."

"Thank you, Reika." Mikan sorted through the files and glanced at the contents, mentally reviewing her terms. "What was it you wanted to tell me?" she said, only half listening.

"Oh, I just wanted to warn you—the other company's heads are rumored to be real playboys. Make sure you don't fall for one of them."

The intercom buzzed on. "Sakura-sama, your guests have arrived."

Mikan pressed a button. "Please escort them to Conference Room 704."

"Sakura-sama—"

Mikan smiled at Reika and replied to her earlier statement, "Of course I won't fall in love."

Reika bit her lip in worry.

Natsume scanned through the online news headlines, coffee by his side.

_Someone died… Terrorists bombed some building… Someone died… Celebrity scandal… Someone died… Politician scandal… Someone died…Mikan's company might merge with someone else's… wait, what?_

He clicked on the link.

* * *

**Fashion Legend and Playboys Extraordinaire Begin Negotiations**

Young fashion prodigy Mikan Sakura will meet today with the co-founders of Cerise Magique, to discuss the possibility of Sakura Kirakira and Cerise Magique's merge. What is more likely is that Sakura Kirakira, being much larger, will buy Cerise Magique.

The internationally known accessories producer Cerise Magique was formed a few years ago by Raiden Yukimura and Akira Tonouichi, two famous playboys, who claimed they were trying to make all the women in the world feel beautiful. The name, Cerise Magique, seems to have been Tonouichi's. He said in an interview that he named his company after a woman—whom he called a cherry blossom—that he was enchanted by when he was younger. He refused to reveal her identity, but we assume she went to the prestigious Alice Academy with him. Now a twenty eight year old bachelor, he and twenty five year old Yukimura are both well known for their womanizing abilities. Cerise Magique produces high-end accessories: jewelry in particular, but also purses and perfume.

Mikan Sakura is a phenomenal fashion designer, at age twenty three. She owns a world-renowned brand, Sakura Kirakira, but also personally makes clothing for her long list of clientele. Sakura Kirakira produces all sorts of clothing for all ages in every season. Sakura's personal designs are included, but most of what she designs goes to her separate brand, Hanahime. Hanahime specializes in evening gowns and other formal wear for women. Sakura stated in an interview that 'Sakura Kirakira' came to her on a whim, while 'Hanahime' is from past experience. All she let out about this past experience was that" the title of Hanahime was very special if one was granted it." As she also is a graduate of Alice Academy, we could guess that Hanahime was, perhaps, a selective club or a prestigious award in the depths of the Academy.

Mikan Sakura is known well for her brilliance and coldness. In an interview about this merge, Yukimura said, "She's like a diamond. Or rather, her heart is—so precious, and so difficult to break." When Tonouichi was asked if his "cherry blossom" was related to Sakura, he cryptically replied, "My cherry blossom wasn't a diamond." We suppose he means that she isn't.

When Sakura was asked about the two, she said, "Tonouichi-san was my much respected senpai at the Academy. He occasionally visited our class as a substitute. He was a flirt even back then." However, she denied that he ever specifically paid attention to her. "I was very plain back then. I didn't attract much attention," she explained. She claims to never have met Yukimura.

Will the infamous womanizers capture her heart?

Read more -

Video

* * *

Natsume clicked on the video link, and a new page opened.

"_Mikan Sakura has been followed by the media ever since she made a name in the fashion industry," the female anchor said dramatically. "The beautiful, talented, and now rich young lady started her own clothing company, Sakura Kirakira, and now is making plans to merge with Cerise Magique, the—"_

Natsume clicked ahead on the timeline below, irritated at her long-windedness.

"_Who first thought of merging with Sakura Kirakira?"_

"_Mikan-chan," Raiden said._

_Tono rolled his eyes. "Sakura-san contacted us with the suggestion about a month ago."_

"_Sakura Kirakira is much bigger. Do you think they will swallow you up?"_

_Raiden shrugged. "Probably."_

"_And you don't care?"_

"_As long as they let us keep doing what we do," Tono said nonchalantly, "We don't mind if they swallow us whole."_

"_Both you and Sakura-san went to Alice Academy. Were you close?"_

"_Not really. I knew who she was, but I didn't pay much attention to her, sadly."_

"_What was she like?"_

_He shook his head. "Sorry, no scandals or anything. She wasn't nearly as smart or pretty as she is now, but she was powerful."_

"_In what way?"_

"_She was…" he hesitated. "…interesting."_

"_Really? Are you implying that she convinced people with her body?"_

"_No! Definitely no! When I met her, she was only ten!"_

"_Are you sure?"_

"_Of course! She was so innocent back then; I couldn't even flirt with her!"_

_Raiden doubled over in laughter. "Sorry, but that's hard to imagine."_

_Tono elbowed him._

"_Umm… Yukimura-san, do you know Sakura-san from past experience?"_

"_No, never met her. But I would like to."_

"_And why's that?"_

"_She's incredible. She's so cold and hard, like a diamond. Or rather, her heart is. Unimaginably precious, but," he smirked and licked his lips, "so difficult to break."_

_Natsume clenched his fists, trying to remember that his computer was very expensive and important, and it would be very, very bad for him if he broke it._

"_Then are you planning to make her fall in love with you?"_

"_I can't wait," Raiden said directly at the camera, sweeping his white-blue hair out of his face, his icy blue eyes staring deeply at the viewer._

Natsume decided that he could buy a new set of cups. Again.

_Tono rolled his eyes._

"_Tonouichi-san, is Sakura-san in any way related to your cherry blossom that provided the name for Cerise Magique?"_

_Tono hesitated, first taking the time to yank Raiden back. "I… My cherry blossom wasn't a diamond," he stated with finality._

Sick of listening to Raiden, Natsume clicked ahead again.

"—_first think of merging with Cerise Magique?"_

"_Of course, we are constantly looking at other companies with similar industries, and it occurred to me a few months ago that the Sakura Kirakira and Cerise Magique have styles that complement each other very well. Also, our specialties match up; if we merge, both creations will be sold in each of our stores as an ensemble or separately," Mikan said, smiling courteously._

"_What do you hope for the plan to be?"_

"_Not to be rude to Yukimura-san and Tonouichi-san, but Sakura Kirakira is quite large. I think we could buy their company—"_

"_Do you expect them to accept that?"_

"_We are actually hoping that Cerise Magique will become part of the Sakura Kirakira brand. They would keep all their employees, and the heads would still be in charge of the company. The only difference is that Sakura Kirakira's heads would have a final say on big decisions, and we would check in on them from time to time."_

"_I see. So we've all heard about Alice Academy. Both you and Akira Tonouichi graduated from there. Did you know each other well?"_

_Technically, she didn't graduate._

"_He was my respected senpai, of course. He was well-known as a playboy, even back then," Mikan laughed, "but I never really talked to him much."_

"_Why not? I would think he would have paid attention to you," the reporter said, indicating Mikan's face._

"_No, I was actually rather plain back then. It wasn't until after Tonouichi-san left that I grew out. Perhaps my body was waiting to try to protect me from him," she grinned._

_The reporter smiled, but seemed disappointed. "So you didn't know each other well?"_

"_No."_

"_Do you know Raiden Yukimura?"_

"_Not at all, other than from the news. I've never met him personally."_

_The reporter pursed her lips, obviously displeased. "Do you find either of them good-looking?"_

"_Of course! Both are attractive, but neither is my type."_

"_Really? What is your type?"_

_Natsume tensed._

"_Definitely not the kind of guy who messes around with girls. I will never date a man that finds it difficult to remain loyal to one woman, or that goes after women for their body."_

"_That sounds wonderful and all, but are you sure you can resist?"_

_Mikan sighed, a sound that hurt Natsume's ears with the agedness of it. "I'm sure. I have encountered men like that before. That was not a happy time of my life."_

"_What happened?"_

_Natsume braced himself._

"_One of my friends was ensnared by someone like that for quite a while. Every time she found him with another girl, her heart broke."_

"_Really? By 'a friend,' do you really mean yourself?"_

"_No, it was a really one of my best friends. She was extremely kind, and rather gullible. But we all believed he actually loved her, until she told us what had happened."_

"_Hm. What happened to her?"_

"_Eventually, she committed suicide."_

_Natsume choked on his coffee._

"_What did the boy do?"_

_Mikan looked away. "I don't know," she shook her head, "I don't know."_

"_Really? If this happened at the academy, you must know what happened to him."_

"_I don't know. I skipped a grade into a different division and never saw them again."_

"_How did the girl's friends and family react to her death?"_

_Mikan closed her eyes and whispered softly, "She was an orphan. She didn't really have many close... true... friends. I was... the only one and... I wasn't there... to stop her."_

_She bowed her head as if in prayer._

Natsume took one last look at her before he closed his laptop. He quickly got in his car and set the GPS for Sakura Kirakira Headquarters, Tokyo.

No way was he going to let her go again.


	12. Chapter 12

I'm really sorry to all my reviewers, but from now on I don't think I'll be able to respond to most of you. School is literally taking all my time, which is why it took me longer than usual to write a section that is much shorter than usual.

Still, thank to:

Essouffle

shainingu etowa-ru

ThatGirl96 - I liked the second better.

-Tribal Addict- - Someone's sadistic.

bunnyjumps

JuSt To RaNdOm

Thank you guys so much for putting up with me so far! More reviews are welcomed, cherished, and given their own guest room!

I don't own GA.

* * *

**Never Again**

**Chapter 12**

"I'm sorry, I can't let you in."

He couldn't believe he had come all the way here just to be shunted away.

"Sakura-sama is currently in a meeting," the stupid receptionist said.

"I demand to talk to her," he growled.

She bowed. "I'm sorry, I can't let you in. She's in a meeting."

"Well, I need to speak with her!"

"You'll have to wait, sir."

He fumed and paced, then turned back to her. "Get her out here, now," he hissed.

She shook her head. "I'm sorry—"

He made a swipe for the intercom, but she caught his hand easily. He yanked it back away. She continued to politely stare at him. He tried to burn her clothing, but nothing happened.

"Sakura-sama Nullified this entire building a few weeks ago," she said.

He growled again. A few weeks ago, he had come to confront her.

"Tell her I insist to be let in!"

She shook her head.

He made another wild grab at the TALK button.

She sighed.

* * *

"Excuse me, Sakura-sama, Tonouichi-sama, Yukimura-sama," one of Reika's assistants peeked through the door.

"Yes?"

"Okino-san just called. She said there's a very persistent man who's trying to get in."

"Did he state his name?"

"I think…" the assistant frowned, "I heard someone in the background saying, 'Tell her it's Narume Haruko.'"

Mikan frowned. "I don't know any Narume Haruka."

"Should I tell him to leave?"

"Tell him to wait ten more minutes. We're almost done."

"Yes." She bowed and closed the door.

Mikan turned back, a pleasant smile on her face. "I'm sorry for the interruption."

Both charmingly grinned and waved it off. "It's fine. We're done anyways."

"Has everything been signed?"

"Yes."

"Alright." She stood and bowed. "Thank you."

They mimicked her. "Thank you as well."

"When are we going to release it?" she queried.

Raiden and Tono both slung an arm around her shoulders on opposite sides. Raiden said, "Give us time to tell our employees first. We don't know who will leave."

"Then, in two days? That will give us both time," Mikan suggested as they walked down the hall.

"Yeah, that's good," Tono said. "But it's not like people are going to walk off if it's Sakura Kirakira, Raiden."

"Natsume, why are you here?" Mikan said as he came into view, ignoring the men.

Natsume was too shocked to speak, staring at the arms straining her shoulders rather than her face.

She felt a blush rising. She hastily pushed it back down and slipped away from the two older men's grasps. "What are you doing here?" she repeated.

His eyes narrowed. "I was waiting for your meeting to finish."

"Oh… So you're Narume Haruka?"

"What?"

"Never mind."

"Who's this, Mikan-chan?" Raiden came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her neck, resting his chin on her head.

Tono conked him on the head. "Mikan's ex."

"Whoa, really?" Raiden grinned, seeming unaffected by the violence. He craned his neck down farther and licked her ear. "What, jealous?" he directed at Natsume's narrowed eyes.

"As if," he spat. "Who would be jealous for an ugly cow?"

He wanted to take back the words as soon as they escaped, but she seemed indifferent. "If all you're going to do is insult me, you should leave. I have work to do. Yukimura-san, let go." She turned back, ignoring her koala.

"Wait!" Natsume grabbed her wrist.

Tono pulled Raiden back and away, saying, "Let's go, leave them alone." Just as Natsume began to move to Mikan, Tono clenched his wrist in his free hand. "If you hurt her, you will pay," he murmured dangerously.

Natsume rolled his eyes at the number of protectors Mikan didn't know she had—which included himself. "Why were you with them?"

Mikan sighed. "Are you that behind on the news?"

"I know, but how did you get so… close?" He had to work to keep his voice from becoming a snarl.

She sighed again. "Typical womanizers."

His expression turned sour. "So, are you helplessly in love with one of them yet?"

"Of course n—"

"Is it Tonouichi? Or that new boy, Yukimura?"

"No!" she huffed. "I'm not in love, you baka."

"…Oh."

She turned to stomp away, but he pulled at her wrist again. "What _now_?"

"Um… so, how did the meeting go?"

"Great," she said shortly, pulling away.

"So, uh, what's the deal?"

She looked at him disgustedly. "Since when do you care?"

"Since now."

"Yeah, sure."

Natsume flinched.

"You'll hear it on the news in two days," she stated with icy finality. "Goodbye."

He could only slump as her proud back disappeared.

* * *

"_We have finally gotten the scoop on the merge between Sakura Kirakira and Cerise Magique! It seems that it will be as expected: Sakura Kirakira will buy Cerise Magique. However, Cerise Magique will keep all its employees. There have been some rumors about other parts of the deal as well. When the statement was released at a press conference, Raiden Yukimura had an arm around Mikan Sakura's waist!"_

In momentary shock, Natsume pressed the gas pedal a little harder than necessary as the light turned red.

"_There have been reports that the two have often been seen together at work."_

His car sped out into the intersection.

"_Some suspect that playboy Raiden has struck again—"_

His hands lost grip on the wheel.

"—_this time at the heart of cold diamond Mikan."_

Tires screeched.

"_Is he serious this time? Or is it just another game for him?"_

People screamed. Himself?

"_An insider said they heard the couple even--"  
_

Sharp pain.

_"--talking about marriage—"_

Complete nothing.

* * *

"—_Now over to Hikaru-san for the traffic report."_

"_There's congestion on 180, right lane blocked, mostly cleared off. New accident at intersection of Himeki Street and Yama Road, three car collision there—"_

Mikan turned the volume down. It seemed she would have to take a detour today. She sighed.

Why couldn't people just drive carefully? Accidents were always so…annoying.


	13. Chapter 13

Gasp! It's been like, forever!

Thanks to:

-kradraven-

kiers - don't worry, she won't.

moonacre99 - only one who didn't mention natsume. applause.

-Tribal Addict- - *back away slowly*

ILuvCookiies - BECAUSE

Miss Mingxi - Um, I'm happy that you like him?

JuSt To RaNdOm

greentulip - Sometimes i wonder if one can get hyper on smilies.

DC

Thanks so much, you guys! If you didn't review, I don't know what I would do!

That rhymed!

Anyway... It seems like Natsume has a lot of fans. I mean, I totally agree, but (like my dear Tribal Addict) I prefer to torture him in various ways. I--as horrible as i may sound--somewhat enjoy his pain. And I especially enjoy calling him an idiot, because--let's face it. He is.

...

On a lighter note, there's a whole lot of randomosity in here.

If I owned GA, would I be writing this? For those of you who don't get it, the answer is no.

* * *

**Never Again**

**Chapter 13**

When he woke up in the all-too-familiar blindingly white environment to that annoyingly monotonous beeping sound, the first thing he did was turn his head, expecting to see the usual brunette, either asleep or awake, often clutching his hand with wrinkles on her forehead. He expected to be able to squeeze her hand and smooth down her messy hair, and—if she was asleep—discreetly slip some pills into his mouth. He expected to feel her Healing energy as she concentrated on passing her health to him. He expected to mentally smile at her care.

Instead, he stiffened in severe pain. And the nurse bending over by his bed to record his pulse or something was _blond_.

He absentmindedly drifted his hand to his pocket to grab his pills. He found that his arm wasn't responding. Neither was the rest of his body. Apparently, only his neck was mobile. Well, that sucked.

The nurse turned to him. "Hyuuga-san, you're up," she stated the obvious. "You were in a car accident."

He didn't bother to respond in any way, only continued looking at her. She wasn't the slightest bit unsettled by his stare, which was increasingly backed by sheer hope that her hair color, eye color, facial structure, and voice would change.

Of course, her appearance stayed the same. "After you're healed, the police are going to have to question you about the cause of the accident and fine or release you accordingly. Luckily, the other party is in better condition than you are, but some of them not by much," she said politely, neither smile nor frown ever touching her mouth.

He slowly, painfully, tweaked his head back to its original position. He would much rather prefer to be glaring at the ceiling than glaring at the lack of Mikan.

"It would probably be best if you don't move at all."

Yeah, well, he was planning to do that.

"Especially not your neck."

Starting now.

"By the way, there's a visitor for you," she said.

Visitor? Who?

"She's currently in the waiting room. Do you want to see her?"

What the hell, is this woman a mind reader?

"Your body shows recognizable signs of Alice damage—don't move."

He had almost instinctively whirled to stare at her—and had almost broken his neck.

"No, but we would need to put it in a brace."

Stop it! This woman is a helluva lot like Koko.

"Who's Koko?"

…

"Okay, never mind. Should I let her in?"

Why not?

The nurse bowed shortly and briskly strolled out. A few minutes or so later, she came back in. "Hyuuga-san."

He raised his eyes, deciding not to move his neck. He expected brown hair and brown eyes, but instead he saw black hair and crimson eyes. "Aoi?"

"I'll be back later, Hyuuga-san," the nurse said to the visitor. "You have fifteen minutes before you need to leave."

Aoi nodded solemnly, then turned to face him. She offered him a tentative smile. "Um, hi."

He ignored her.

Suddenly, her lower lip began trembling, and she burst into tears. "Stupid onii-chan!" she cried between sobs. "Getting in an accident—such an idiot!"

He twitched. "Who're you calling an idiot?"

She wiped the tears away, and sniffled, "Idiot onii-chan."

He twitched again.

"Were you expecting someone else?"

He glanced up at his sister, wondering for the first time if she really shared part of his personality. She was smirking now, arms crossed.

She added rather mockingly, "For example…a certain—"

"No."

"I didn't finish yet, you idiot," she pouted.

"Still, no."

"…Did I mention that you're an idiot?"

"I'm not sure. You might've slipped that in somewhere."

"Yeah, well. You're an idiot."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah."

"I'm so happy."

"…Okay?"

"Aren't you going to ask why?"

"No."

"Well, I'm happy because I'm the only person who can call you an idiot and not be killed."

"Have you noticed that I can't really move right now?"

"You have your Alice."

"You do too."

"But you're stronger; you can still burn me."

"…Damn you, Aoi."

* * *

At the same moment that Natsume cursed his sister, Hotaru was—to her great displeasure—interrupted in the middle of a very important experiment.

"Hotaru."

_What the hell?! Who's crazy enough to interrupt her in the middle of a very important experiment?!_

"Hotaru, it's me."

She took off her safety visor and put down the blowtorch. Carefully brushing imaginary dust off her spotless apron, she elegantly composed her face and gracefully leaned against her worktable.

_Ah. So there's the idiot._

"Hey," he said.

_She hated blond hair._

"Hey," she replied.

"So… um…. What are you working on?"

_She hated blue eyes._

"…Nothing much."

He chuckled. "I probably wouldn't understand if you told me anyway."

_She hated his stupid fricking laugh and his stupid fricking smile and his stupid fricking self._

"Probably not."

He laughed again.

_She hated her stupidly weak heart.

* * *

_

"Hello?"

"_Mikan-chan! You finally answered!"_

"Um…"

"_We've been trying to contact you for hours!"_

"I was in a meeting, Misaki."

"_Oh. How'd it go?"_

"Pretty well, we're nearly done with the magazine for all of us."

"_Omigawd, I can't wait—Right, back on topic."_

"...Uh…"

"_Your hubby—"_

"Excuse me? My _what_?"

"_Your hubby—you know, like your husband, or boyfriend!"_

"Last time I checked, I didn't have one. Did you set me up on a blind date again?"

"_No… I think."_

"Seriously? I told you, I don't want to—"

"_We're off topic! So, back to my point, your boyfriend—"_

"—which I don't have—"

"—_got in an accident!"_

"…Huh?"

"_I said, your boyfriend—"_

"I know what you said, but as I shall repeat: I don't have a boyfriend."

"_You're really slow, aren't you?"_

"…Wow, thanks."

"_Okay, let me spell this out for you."_

"I'm not that stupid."

"_Shut up, will you? I swear, you're acting more and more like the Mikan from before."_

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"_Nothing, nothing."_

"Uh huh."

"_Gah! Okay, from the top."_

"Top?"

"_Shut up!"_

"Shutting."

"_So, what I meant to say was, Natsume—"_

"—got arrested?"

"_No—"_

"Got put in jail?"

"_No—"_

"Eloped?"

"_No! What sort of image do you have of him?!"_

"Not a very good one."

"_That's obvious."_

"So…Got married?"

"_No! What the hell is your problem, woman?!"_

"What?"

"_Do you want him to be married?"_

"No."

"…_You admitted it."_

"Admitted what?"

"_That you like him."_

"I don't."

"_Then why do you not him to get married?"_

"Because I pity the woman."

"…_Has anyone ever told you that you're way too stubborn?"_

"Once or twice, maybe."

"_...Back on topic."_

"Are you sure you haven't forgotten?"

"_Shut up."_

"Shutting."

"_Doesn't seem like it."_

"Just talk."

"_Okay, like I've tried—"_

"—and failed—"

"—_to say many times before, Natsume was in an accident."_

"…He wet himself?"

"_Don't ever let you hear him say that."_

"Why not?"

"_Because."_

"…That's not a reason."

"_Well, he'd kill you. I thought it was obvious. Anyways, no."_

"That what do you mean?"

"_He was in an accident. He didn't have an accident—he was in an accident."_

"Like what?"

"_As in car accident."_

"…Huh?"

"_Why do you have to be so stupid now, of all times?"_

"Hey…"

"_Natsume was in a car accident."_

"Oh."

"_Finally got through to you, huh?"_

"…He's such an idiot."

"_I would agree, but I value life."_

"Which hospital?"

"_I was hoping you would say that."_

_

* * *

_

Misaki probably wouldn't talk to Mikan like that, but whatevs.

Love it? hate it? Somewhere-in-between it? Review!


	14. Chapter 14

He had to be dreaming.

"Hey," she smiled awkwardly, hands behind her back as she stepped shyly through the door.

He could only stare.

"So, um…"

He blinked a few times.

"…uh… How's it going?" she attempted.

"What are you doing here?" he spat out in surprise.

He had curbed his voice at the end, trying not to sound hateful, but she still cringed. "Um…"

He flinched.

"Well, you know that modeling thing? The one the girls asked me to do, with all of you guys?" She took a breath. "Um, so, you're injured."

"I can tell," he muttered spitefully. She winced, and he flinched again.

She took another shaky breath and looked away. "Um, so… the modeling thing. Right. Um, we decided that we couldn't cancel it—the public's already crazy clamoring for it—but we have to either delay it or let you out."

"Let me out?" He glared at her, trying to force her to look at him.

"You know… just take you out of the thing. You didn't particularly want to do it anyways." She shrugged, turning her head back towards him but not focusing on his face. "It's your choice."

He stared at her, suddenly, horribly reminded of someone very different from the angel in front of him.

"_Either you do what we say…" the man hissed quietly, "…or she will."_

_The boy's muscles tightened, ready to spring._

"_I'm sure she'll be willing to comply. After all… we could always use the same tactics with her as we do with you." The man smirked predatorily. "She has many more openings for threats, my dear boy. One of them being you."_

"_Why the hell do you want her?" the boy retorted, ignoring the jolt of fear. "What the hell could she give you?"_

"_We know about her. Did you think you could hide it from us forever? That beautiful, rare Alice," he mused, with an enraptured tone in his voice._

_The boy glared at him._

"_You work for us or she works for us."_

_The boy gritted his teeth._

"_You die or she dies."_

_The boy shut his eyes._

"_It's your choice."_

She sighed heavily as she shut the door of the car.

Truthfully, she wasn't entirely sure what she had gone to see him for. It only brought back memories. Not good memories. Once she was in the room, she didn't know what to do or say. She could only stand there awkwardly.

It didn't exactly help that he was staring at her like he didn't know who the hell she was and why the hell she acted like she knew him.

She sighed again and put her head in her hands.

So, of course, she made up something on the spot. The first thing that came to mind was "the modeling thing". Wonderful. And all that stuttering!

And she called herself a professional.

To be fair, even professionals were generally human. If only to boost her ego, she reminded herself that even professionals would be upset by the image of a heavily injured _friend_, whom she had seen in the same situation too many times before, with **blood** seeping through his clothes, and a **pained**, **twisted**, **fighting** expression twisted onto his face, while a dark-haired dark-eyed dark-hearted man stood watching them in the corner, his own expression **patronizingly**, **coldly** **amused**, and the boy in the bed would jerk up, **wincing**, and the man would toss him some pills—_those f***ing_ _**pills**_—and the boy would **glance at her** before shoving the pills down his throat, and all she could do was bite her lip to keep her silence, wanting to protest but afraid of the **iciness** of his face and the **metal against her skin** when he **screamed** at her the last time she tried to **stop** him, and she felt **numb** even as the **lack of care** in his glance heated the spitting **furnace** of **fearful** **rage** in her, and he would gracefully **leap** through the window, and she would run to it—_**late**__, __**late**__, so f***ing __**useless**__—_and press her head against the wall and choke back a **wet** cry for help as she watched him sprint off, and she would turn and slide down the wall, **shuddering**, until a nurse took **pity** and sent her back to the dorm.

Mikan woke up with a cry of anguish.

Not the best start to a day.

She clumsily wiped some sweat off of her forehead—not that it was much help; her palms weren't much drier and the rest of her body felt sticky as well. She spread a hand across the flat area right below the base of her neck, willing her heart rate down.

Once she deemed herself relatively calm, she sat up and leaned against the headboard, feeling strangely lonely in the huge bed. She closed her eyes, but when blood-soaked black flashed in front of her, she jerked them back open.

It had been awhile since then.

"_I'm sorry…" her uncle whispered, his head in his hands, elbows on his desk, liquid leaking down his arms._

_She wasn't sure if she was supposed to respond._

"_I'm sorry…" he shuddered again, bringing his head up to stare dazedly at her. "Sorry, sorry, sorry…" His eyes and nose and cheeks were an ugly pink._

_At that moment, Mikan chose to notice the dimness of the room, and the lovely crimson curtains covering the windows._

"_Sorry…"_

_She was glad. She didn't think she could endure sunlight at the moment. She tried to distract herself from the lack of sorrow she felt._

"_I'm sorry, Yuka," her uncle muttered, head back in his hands. "I'm sorry, brother."_

_She pushed away the horrible disgust creeping up her back. She couldn't feel that way about her uncle._

_Thankfully, there was a sharp knock on the door. An unfamiliar man stepped into the room. He ignored the high school principal and turned directly to the girl. "Sakura-san."_

_She nodded stiffly._

"_There is a matter of importance I must discuss with you."_

_How incredibly pretentious, she mused. So formal. Why couldn't they just tell her? She already knew he was dead._

_But she followed the man into the hallway anyway._

"_Concerning Hyuuga-san…" the man muttered, barely audible. "He's alive."_

_She froze._

_No way._

_No way in _hell_._

_She had just seen him die, right in front of her, witnessed his face paling and his body cooling, and this idiot had the nerve to tell her he was alive?_

_She offered him a short, harsh laugh._

"_I'm not lying, Sakura-san. I swear. He came back to life. He's sleeping now."_

_She turned with a swirl of her skirt and stomped away from him, fuming, trying desperately to ignore that prick of hope._

"_I swear by my life, Sakura-san! He's alive!"_

_She hesitated before sprinting away, towards the hospital. She couldn't stop the tiny, clawing beast in her chest, clamoring for attention, forcing her to confirm…_

_She skidded into his room, breathless._

_He was alive._

_Alive._

_Alive._

_She savored the word._

"_Mikan-chan," a playfully dark voice breathed from behind her._

_She spun around._

_The tall, dark man beckoned slowly with one finger, a sly smirk crossing his face._

_She shivered, but followed him out, refusing to cast one weakened glance back at the boy in the bed, breathing calmly._

_He was _breathing_. That was enough to calm her for the moment._

_The man abruptly stopped, turned, and bent down towards her face. She stubbornly didn't back away._

_He laughed softly in her face._

_She shrank a little._

_He smoothed some hair back, tucking it behind her ear. "Mikan-chan… we're going to need you to keep quiet, 'kay?"_

"_About what?" She was horrified to hear her voice tremble._

_He seemed ecstatic. "About this period of time…"_

"_I don't know what you mean."_

"_Our dearest Natsume-kun has recently been in a rather bad condition, because of some __**unfortunate circumstances**__ that… __**harmed him repeatedly**__ over the past month."_

_Unfortunate circumstances? she fumed. As if you __**bastards**__ didn't send him on mission after mission, hoping—_knowing_ he would eventually __**slip up**__ and be __**injured fatally**__!_

"_Of course, we hadn't expected his __**revival**__… It's incredibly difficult to play with an __**uncooperative toy**__, you know." He ran a thumb over her lips as if to emphasize his point._

_She refused to back down, glaring in __**hatred**__ at him. Did they really think she didn't know that he was purposely being sent on __**death missions**__ because he was rebelling too much?_

"_He really only became unruly after he met you…" the man whispered. "He needed to be __**re-controlled**__, darling. Much like you." He kissed her._

_She couldn't move, much too horrified. The kiss only lasted a second before he pulled away._

"_Of course, he's __**been through so much**__… If you ever brought it up in front of him, __**he may go crazy**__. It would be terrible if that happened, wouldn't it? __**You don't want him to go crazy, do you?**__"_

_She remained in mute revulsion._

"_And, of course, he can't be sent on too many missions either."_

_Finally, getting to his point._

"_We'll need a __**replacement**__."_

_She nodded._

_He smirked and kissed her again before he walked away. "Remember, Mikan-chan. __**Silence**__."_

_When she finally worked out how to move again, she robotically marched to the bathroom, determined to scrub off all traces off him. She looked in the mirror, and her eyes widened._

_Scrawled across her collarbone in incredibly fine, __**death**__ black print that seemed to be bleeding outwards, in such a way that she could read it through the mirror, there was a simple message, a message that faded as she instinctively activated her Alice in __**fear**__._

"_10:32 tonight, my __**Dying Flower**__." _


End file.
